\ 


The   Lion's  Whelp 


'Now  LET  GOD  ARISE!' 


The 


Lion's 


A  Story  of  CromweW  s  Time 

By 
Amelia  E.  Barr 

Author    of 

"The   Bow   of  Orange    Ribbon,'"    "I,    Thou,   and  the 
Other  One,"   "  The  Maid  of  Maiden  Lane,"  etc. 


With    Illustrations  by 

Lee  Woodward  Zeigler 


New  Tork 

Dodd,    Mead    fc?    Company 
1901 


Copyright,  1901 ,  by 

DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved 


THE  CAXTON  PRESS 
NEW  YORK. 


Contents 


CHAP.  PAGE 

I.       SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK.             I 

II.       DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY               25 

III.       WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY               42 

IV.       SO  SWEET   A  DREAM 59 

V.       SHEATHED  SWORDS 82 

VI.       ON  THE  TIDE  TOP IOg 

VII.       TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS 138 

VIII.       UPON  THE  THRESHOLD l6j 

IX.       CROMWELL  INTERFERES 189 

X.       RUPERT  AND  CLUNY .211 

XI.       OLIVER   PROTECTOR 239 

XII.       HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS           260 

XIII.       CHANGES   AT  DE   WICK 277 

XIV.       A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON 298 

XV.  THE   FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY   NEVILLE     .        .        .        .  33! 

XVI.       OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR 353 


List  of  Illustrations 


"  '  NOW    LET    GOD    ARISE  !  '  ''  FRONTISPIECE 

"WHEN  HE  CAME  AGAIN  IT  WAS  HARVEST  TIME."  7^ 
"  THEN  HE  DROPPED   HIS   BLADE   INTO  THK  SHEATHE  WITH   A 

CLANG."  104 

"BEHELD  CROMWELL  STANDING  UPON  THE  THRESHOLD."  124 

"  THE  HAWTHORNS  WERE  IN  FLOWER."  140 

"  RUPERT  STOOD  STILL,  AND  BOWED  GRAVELY."  224 

te  THREE  OMINOUS-LOOKING  PAPERS."  286 

"  '  LlFT   UI>    YOUR    HEADS,    O  YE  GATES,  AND    THE  KlNG   OF 

GLORY  SHALL  COME  IN.'  '  352 


BOOK  I 
The  Hour  and   The   Man 


Unknown  to  Cromwell  as  to  me, 
Was  Cromwell's  measure  or  degree. 

He  works,  plots,  rights,  in  rude  affairs, 
With  'squires,  lords,  kings,  his  craft  compares, 
Till  late  he  learned,  through  doubt  and  fear, 
Broad  England  harbored  not  his  peer." 

— Emerson. 


The  Lion's  Whelp 


CHAPTER  I 

SWAFFHAM    AND    DE    WICK 

"  Sway  the  tide  of  battle  which  way  it  will,  human  existence  is 
held  together  by  its  old,  and  only  tenure  of  earnest  thoughts,  and 
quiet  affections." 

DURING  the  seventeenth  century  Swaffham  Manor  House 
was  one  of  the  most  picturesque  dwellings  in  Cambridge 
shire.  It  was  so  old  that  it  had  a  sort  of  personality.  It 
was  Swaffham.  For  as  the  Yorkshireman,  in  speaking  of 
his  beloved  rivers,  disdains  the  article  "  the  "  and  calls  them 
with  proud  familiarity,  Aire,  Ure,  Ribble,  so  to  the  men  of 
the  country  between  Huntingdon  and  Cambridge,  this  an 
cient  dwelling  was  never  the  Manor  House ;  it  was  the 
synonym  of  its  builders,  and  was  called  by  their  name — 
Swaffham.  For  it  was  the  history  of  the  Swaffham  family 
in  stone  and  timber,  and  no  one  could  enter  its  large,  low 
rooms  without  feeling  saturated  and  informed  with  the  spir 
itual  and  physical  aura  ot  the  men  and  women  who  had 
for  centuries  lived  and  died  under  its  roof. 

The  central  tower— built  of  the  white  stone  of  the  neigh 
bourhood — was  the  fortress  which  Tonbert  Swaffham  erected 
A.  D.  870,  to  defend  his  lands  from  an  invasion  of  the 
Danes ;  and  five  generations  of  Tonbert's  descendants 

1 


2  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

dwelt  in  that  tower,  before  William  of  Normandy  took 
possession  of  the  crown  of  England.  The  Swaffham  of 
that  date  became  a  friend  of  the  Conqueror ;  the  Manor 
was  enriched  by  his  gifts;  and  the  Manor  House — en 
larged  and  beautified  by  various  holders — had  the  singular 
fortune  to  be  identified  with  the  stirring  events  of  every 
dynasty. 

In  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  it  still  retained 
this  character.  Puritan  councils  of  oftense  and  defense 
had  been  held  in  its  great  hall,  and  parliamentary  soldiers 
drilled  in  its  meadows.  For  Captain  Israel  Swafr'ham  was 
the  friend  of  General  Cromwell,  and  at  the  time  this  story 
opens  was  with  Cromwell  in  Scotland.  Nothing  of  good 
in  the  old  race  was  lacking  in  Captain  Israel.  He  was  a 
soldier  going  forth  on  a  holy  errand,  hurrying  to  serve  God 
on  the  battle-field  ;  faithful,  as  a  man  must  be  who  could 
say  after  a  hard  day's  fighting, 

"  Tired  !  No.  It  is  not  for  me  to  let  my  right  hand 
grow  tired,  if  God's  work  be  half-done." 

A  great  fighter,  he  had  no  parliamentary  talent,  and  no 
respect  for  parliaments.  He  believed  England's  religious 
and  civil  liberties  were  to  be  saved  by  the  sword,  and  the 
sword  in  the  hand  of  his  great  leader,  Oliver  Cromwell; 
and  when  the  King's  fast-and-loose  proposals  had  been 
discussed  by  the  men  of  Cambridgeshire,  in  Swaffham,  he 
had  closed  the  argument  with  this  passionate  declaration  : 

"  There  is  no  longer  disputing  with  such  a  double  mind 
as  the  mind  of  Charles  Stuart.  The  very  oath  of  God 
would  not  bind  him.  Out,  instantly,  all  of  you  who  can  !  " 

His  three  sons  rose  at  his  words  and  the  rest  of  the  coun 
cil  followed,  for  all  felt  that  the  work  was  but  half  done — 
there  was  to  be  a  Second  Civil  War.  Then  home  was 
again  deserted  for  the  battle-field,  and  Captain  SwarFham's 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  3 

wife  and  daughter  were  once  more  left  alone  in  the  old 
Manor  House. 

Mrs.  SvvafFham  was  the  child  of  a  Puritan  minister,  and 
she  had  strong  Puritan  principles ;  but  these  were  subject 
to  passing  invasions  of  feeling  not  in  accord  with  them. 
There  were  hours  when  she  had  pitied  the  late  King,  excused 
his  inexcusable  treacheries,  and  regretted  the  pomps  and 
ceremonies  of  royal  state.  She  had  even  a  feeling  that 
England,  unkinged,  had  lost  prestige  and  was  like  a  de 
throned  nation.  In  such  hours  she  fretted  over  her  absent 
husband  and  sons,  and  said  words  hard  for  her  daughter 
fane  to  listen  to  with  any  sympathy  or  patience. 

For  Jane  Swaffham  was  of  a  different  spirit.  She  had  a 
soul  of  the  highest  mettle  ;  and  she  had  listened  to  those 
English  mystics,  who  came  out  of  the  steel  ranks  of  tri 
umphant  Puritanism,  until  she  had  caught  their  spirit  and 
been  filled  through  and  through  with  their  faith.  The 
Swaft  hams  were  a  tall  race  ;  but  Jane  was  a  woman  of 
small  stature  and  slender  frame,  and  her  hair,  though 
abundant,  wanted  the  rich  brown  hue  that  was  the  heritage 
of  the  Swaffham  beauties.  No  one  spoke  of  Jane  as  a 
beauty  ;  the  memory  of  her  sister  Amity — who  had  mar 
ried  Lord  Armingford — and  of  her  aunt,  Cicely  Compton, 
both  women  of  rare  loveliness,  qualified  Jane's  claim  to 
this  family  distinction.  And  yet  she  had  a  fresh,  bright 
face,  a  face  like  a  sweet  single  rose  of  the  wood ;  one  could 
see  straight  to  her  heart  through  it — a  loving,  cheerful 
daughter  of  righteousness;  not  perfect  by  any  means;  sub 
ject  to  little  bursts  of  temper,  and  to  opinions  so  positive 
they  had  the  air  of  bigotry  ;  but  with  all  her  faults  hold 
ing  that  excellent  oneness  of  mind,  which  has  no  doubts 
and  no  second  thoughts. 

This  was  the   maiden  who  was   sitting,  one   sunny   after- 


4  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

noon,  at  the  open  window  of  the  household  parlour  in  Swaff- 
ham.  The  lazy  wind  brought  her  delicious  pufts  of  sweet- 
brier  scent,  and  in  the  rich  fields  beyond  the  garden  she 
could  hear  the  voices  of  the  reapers  calling  to  each  other  as 
they  bound  the  wheat.  On  the  hearthstone,  her  mother's 
wheel  hummed  in  a  fitful  way,  now  rapidly,  now  slowly, 
anon  stopping  altogether.  Jane  was  quite  idle.  A  tray 
full  of  ripe  lavender  spikes  was  at  her  side  and  a  partly 
finished  little  bag  of  sheer  muslin  was  in  her  hand,  but  the 
work  was  not  progressing.  When  thoughts  are  happy,  the 
needle  flies,  when  they  are  troubled  or  perplexed,  the  hands 
drop  down  and  it  becomes  an  effort  to  draw  the  thread. 
Jane  was  thinking  of  her  father  and  brothers,  of  the  un 
happy  condition  of  England,  and  of  the  unrest  in  their  own 
household.  For  she  knew  that  her  mother  was  worried 
about  many  things,  and  the  fret  that  was  bred  in  the  kitchen 
and  the  farm  offices — in  spite  of  all  her  efforts — insinuated 
itself  into  the  still  order  of  the  handsome  room  in  which  she 
was  sitting.  She  felt  her  mother's  silence  to  be  unpleas 
antly  eloquent.  The  fitful  wheel  complained.  It  was  a 
relief  when  Mrs.  Swarf  ham  brought  to  audible  conclusions, 
the  voiceless  tension  in  which  they  were  sitting. 

"  My  work  is  never  out  of  hand,  Jane,"  she  said  fret 
fully.  "  I  am  fairly  downhearted  to-day — so  put  to  the 
push  as  I  have  been,  with  women  in  the  kitchen  and  men 
in  the  fields." 

"  Dear  mother,  it  may  not  be  for  long." 

"  It  will  be  long  enough  to  bring  everything  to  wrack  and 
ruin.  The  dairy  is  twenty-four  shillings  short  this  week." 

"  There  are  perhaps  fewer  cows  in  milk." 

"  The  wool  is  short  weight  also  ;  one  of  the  gray  horses 
is  sick  ;  the  best  thresher  has  gone  soldiering,  like  the  rest 
of  the  fools." 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  5 

"  Mother  !  " 

"  And  Will  Will-be-so  has  the  rheumatism,  and  in  spite 
of  his  Bible  and  his  psalm-singing,  has  been  to  Dame  Yo- 
dene  for  a  charm." 

"  Why  did  he  not  come  to  you  for  flannel  and  a  plas 
ter  ?  " 

"  Come  to  me  !  That  goes  without  saying.  I  went  out 
of  my  way  to  help  him,  and  then  he  wished  Master  Israel 
was  home,  and  said  '  there  was  no  rheumatics  when  he  was 
round  looking  after  his  men.'  I  fired  up,  then,  when  he 
spoke  that  way — laying  to  my  account  the  wettings  he  gets 
coming  from  the  ale-house  at  nights  ;  and  then  he  muttered 
'  Women's  ways — Will-be-so.'  ' 

u  Will  is  very  provoking.  I  wish  he  would  go  to  the 
wars." 

"  He  likes  the  tap  at  Widow  Tasburgh's,  and  the  black 
smith's  forge  too  well — let  alone  the  women  in  the  kitchen, 
who  are  all  quarreling  about  him.  And  then  there  is  this 
new  girl,  Susannah,  who  is  more  pretty  than  need  be  ;  her 
face  gets  her  too  much  favour  with  the  men  and  too  little 
with  the  women.  When  Doctor  Verity  comes  next,  I 
must  tell  him  to  give  a  few  words  suitable  at  the  Evening 
Service.  They  are  a  lazy,  quarreling  set,  and  every  one  of 
them  does  their  work  against  the  collar." 

"  Father  told  me  he  was  led  to  believe  he  would  not  be 
long  away.  He  said  this  campaign  would  be  short  and 
fierce,  for  General  Cromwell  looks  on  its  necessity  as  the 
unpardonable  sin  in  Charles  Stuart." 

"  Short  and  fierce  !  Well,  then,  General  Cromwell  is 
well  able  to  put  fighting  men  up  to  that  kind  of  thing." 

"  You  are  out  with  the  General,  mother,  and  all  because 
you  miss  father  so  much." 

"  I  am  out  with  the  war,  Jane.      What  is  the  good  of  it  ? 


6  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Charles   Stuart   alive,  stands  for  his  Prerogative  just  where 
Charles   Stuart   dead,  did." 

"  The  war  is  now  an  appeal  to  God.     That  is  the  good 
of  it.     You  heard  what  Doctor  Verity  said  of  its  necessity— 
and  you  agreed  with  him.     Indeed,  who  could  gainsay  his 
words  ?      He  spoke  as  if  he  had  heard  God's  command  4  Up 
and  be  doing,  and  I  will  help  you.'  ' 

"  Is  God,  then,  the  God  of  war  ?  No,  Jane.  I  will  not 
believe  it." 

"  God  is  the  God  of  blessings,  mother ;  but  as  the 
ploughshare  breaks  up  the  earth  for  the-  corn  seed, 
so  does  the  red  ploughshare  of  war  break  up  the  heart 
of  the  nation  for  the  blessing  of  freedom  which  shall 
follow  it." 

"  I  know  not ;  I  know  not ;  but  I  am  sure  if  there  were 
no  kings  and  queens  in  the  world  it  would  be  little  loss  to 
God  Almighty,  or  to  any  one  else." 

At  this  moment  there  was  the  sound  of  wheels  and  the 
tramp  of  horses,  and  Jane  said,  "  It  is  Matilda  de  Wick.  I 
know  the  roll  of  the  carriage.  Dear  mother,  keep  a  bright 
face  in  her  presence.  She  will  see  everything,  and  draw 
conclusions  from  the  smallest  matter."  Then  Jane  lifted 
her  sewing,  and  the  wheel  began  to  hum,  and  the  door 
opened  swiftly  and  Matilda  de  Wick  entered. 

"  I  have  just  been  at  Ely,"  she  said,  "  and  if  I  live 
seven-and-fifty  years  longer  in  this  sinful  world,  I  shall  not 
forget  the  visit."  Then  she  laughed  with  a  merry  scorn, 
kissed  Jane  on  the  cheek,  and  laid  off  her  hat,  heavy  with 
white  plumes.  "  It  is  good-bye  to  my  senses,"  she  con 
tinued  ;  "  I  am  out  of  wisdom  this  afternoon — lend  me 
your  sobriety,  Jane.  I  have  been  visiting  Lady  Heneage, 
and  I  have  heard  so  much  of  the  Cromwell's  full  cup  that, 
in  faith,  I  think  it  has  gone  to  my  head.  Do  I  look  sensi- 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  7 

ble  ?    I   have   no   hope   of  my  words,  and  I  pray  you  excuse 
whatever  I  may  say." 

"  I  trust  Lady   Heneage  is  well,"   said    Mrs.  Swaffham. 

"  She  had  need  to  be  well.  Her  house  is  as  full  as  the  ark. 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Harnpden  is  there,  and  daughter  Flambord, 
and  daughter  Clayton,  and  all  their  children  and  retainers. 
It  is  their  last  gathering  before  they  go  away.  Do  you 
wish  to  know  where  they  are  going  ?  'To  London,  of 
course.  When  people  carry  themselves  to  such  a  height, 
no  other  city  is  big  enough.  But  I  ask  pardon  ;  I  told  you 
my  words  had  lost  their  senses." 

"  Why  do  you  go  to  see  Lady  Heneage  if  you  like  her 
not  and  surely  you  like  her  not,  or  you  would  not  make  a 
mock  of  her  doings." 

"  I  like  to  go  where  good  fortune  sits,  Jane — and  in 
these  days  no  one  can  expect  honour  that  deserves  it.  You 
know  also  that  the  last  Heneage  baby  was  named  for  me, 
and  I  got  word  that  it  was  short-coated  last  Sunday ;  and  so 
1  went  to  see  the  little  brat.  It  is  a  beauty,  if  it  hold  on  to 
its  good  looks  ;  and  'tis  like  to  do  so,  for  whatever  Heneage 
gets,  Heneage  keeps." 

"  And  they  are  going  to  London  ?  Is  it  really  so  ?  "  asked 
Jane. 

"  'Tis  not  very  civil  to  doubt  it.  I  dare  be  sworn  it  is  as 
true  as  a  thing  can  be,  when  the  world  is  topsy-turvy.  But 
that  is  not  all  of  my  news — I  heard  also  that  Jane  Swaff 
ham  was  going  to  London — a  thing  I  would  not  believe 
without  Jane's  assurance." 

"It  is  very  uncertain,"  replied  A/lrs.  Swaffham.  "Jane 
has  an  invitation  from  Mary  Cromwell,  and  if  Doctor 
Verity  comes  here  soon,  he  may  find  the  time  to  take  her 
to  London  with  him.  We  know  not  assuredly,  as  yet." 

"  Jane  must  move  mountains  to  go.      The  Cromwells  are 


8  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

now  living  in  the  stately  Cockpit.  They  will  hold  court 
there,  and  Jane  Swaffham  will  be  of  it.  'Tis  said  all  this 
honour  for  the  Irish  campaign." 

"  Then  it  is  well  deserved/'  answered  Jane  with  some 
heat. 

"  Jane,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham,  "  I  can  not  abide  any  more 
quarreling  to-day.  If  you  and  Matilda  get  on  that  subject, 
truth  and  justice  will  go  to  the  wall.  Monstrous  lies  are 
told  about  Ireland,  and  you  both  suck  them  down  as  if  they 
were  part  of  the  Gospels."  Then  turning  to  Matilda  she 
asked,  "  Why  does  the  Heneage  family  go  to  London  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  madame,  now  that  Mr.  Cromwell  has  become 
Captain-General,  and  Commander-in-Chief,  why  should  not 
all  his  old  friends  go  to  London  ?  London  has  gone  mad 
over  the  man  ;  even  that  supreme  concourse  of  rebels  called 
Parliament  rose  up,  bareheaded,  to  receive  him  when  he 
last  honoured  them  with  a  visit." 

"  Just  what  they  ought  to  have  done,  "  said  Jane.  "  Is 
there  any  corner  of  England  not  coupled  gloriously  with  his 
name  ?  " 

"  And  Ireland  ?  " 

"  Gloriously  also." 

"  Pray,  then,  is  it  not  extremely  natural  for  his  old  friends 
to  wish  to  see  his  glory  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  one  thing,"  answered  Jane.  "  Public 
honours  please  not  General  Cromwell.  He  would  thank 
God  to  escape  them." 

"  I  do  not  say  that  the  wish  to  see  him  honoured  is  uni 
versal,  "  continued  Matilda.  "  Father  Sacy  thinks  there 
are  a  few  thousand  men  still  living  in  England  who  have  not 
bowed  the  knee  to  this  Baal." 

"  It  is  wicked  to  liken  a  good  man  to  a  devil,  Matilda ; 
and  if  mother  will  sit  and  listen  to  such  words,  I  will  not. 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  9 

And,  look  you,  though  Charles  Stuart's  men  turn  up  their 
noses  and  the  palms  of  their  hands  at  General  Cromwell,  he 
stands  too  high  for  them  to  pull  him  down.  Cromwell  will 
work  and  light  the  time  appointed  him — and  after  that  he 
will  rest  in  the  Lord.  For  he  is  good,  and  just,  and  brave 
as  a  lion,  and  there  is  not  a  man  or  woman  can  say  differ 
ent — not  a  man  or  woman  treading  English  ground  to-day 
that  can,  in  truth,  say  different !  Always  he  performs  God's 
will  and  pleasure." 

"  Or  the  devil's." 

"  He  is  a  good  man.      I  say  it." 

"  And  he  knows  it ;  and  that  is  where  his  hypocrisy 
comes  in — I " 

"Children!  Children!  can  you  find  nothing  more  lovely 
to  talk  about  ?  Matilda,  you  know  that  you  are  baiting 
Jane's  temper  only  that  you  may  see  her  lose  it." 

Then  Matilda  laughed,  and  stooping  to  her  friend,  kissed 
her  and  said,  "  Come,  little  Jane,  I  will  ask  your  pardon.  It 
is  the  curse  of  these  days,  that  one  must  lie  to  one's  own 
heart,  or  quarrel  with  the  heart  one  loves.  Kiss  and  be 
friends,  Jane.  I  came  to  get  your  receipt  for  lavender 
conserves,  and  this  is  nothing  to  it." 

"Jane  was  conserving,  yesterday,"  answered  Mrs.  Swaff- 
ham,  "  and  she  has  a  new  receipt  from  her  sister  Arming- 
ford  for  brewing  a  drink  against  sleeplessness.  It  is  to  be 
made  from  the  blue  flowers  picked  from  the  knaps." 

"That  is  fortunate,"  said  Matilda.  "You  know  that 
my  father  has  poor  health,  and  his  liking  for  study  makes 
him  ailing,  of  late.  He  sleeps  not.  I  wish  that  I  had  a 
composing  draught  for  him.  Come,  Jane,  let  us  go  to  the 
still-room."  She  spoke  with  an  unconscious  air  of  authority, 
and  Jane  as  unconsciously  obeyed  it,  but  there  was  a  cold 
ness  in  her  manner  which  did  not  disappear  until  the 


io  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

royalist  lady  had  talked  with  her  for  half-an-hour  about  the 
spices  and  the  distilled  waters  that  were  to  prevail  against 
the  Earl's  sleeplessness. 

When  the  electuary  had  been  prepared,  the  girls  became 
silent.  They  were  as  remarkably  contrasted  as  were  the 
tenets,  religious  and  civil,  for  which  they  stood.  But  if 
mere  physical  ascendency  could  have  dominated  Jane  Swaff- 
ham,  she  was  in  its  presence.  Yet  it  was  not  Matilda,  but 
Jane,  who  filled  the  cool,  sweet  place  with  a  sense  of  power 
not  to  be  disputed.  Her  pale  hair  was  full  of  light  and  life  ; 
it  seemed  to  shine  in  its  waving  order  and  crown-like  coil. 
Her  eyes  had  a  steady  glow  in  their  depths  that  was  invin 
cible  ;  her  slight  form  was  proudly  poised  ;  her  whole  man 
ner  resolute  and  a  little  cold,  as  of  one  who  was  putting 
down  an  offense  only  half-forgiven. 

Matilda  was  conscious  of  Jane's  influence,  and  she  called 
all  her  own  charms  forth  to  rival  it.  Putting  out  of  ac 
count  her  beautiful  face  and  stately  figure  as  not  likely  to 
affect  Jane,  she  assumed  the  manner  she  had  never  known 
to  fail — a  manner  half-serious  and  wholly  affectionate  and 
confidential.  She  knew  that  Swaffham  was  always  a  safe 
subject,  and  that  a  conversation  set  to  that  key  went  di 
rectly  to  Jane's  heart.  So,  turning  slowly  round  to  observe 
everything,  she  said, 

"  How  cool  and  sweet  is  this  place,  Jane  ! ' 

"  It  is,  Matilda.  I  often  think  that  one  might  receive 
angels  among  these  pure  scents." 

"  Oh,  I  vow  it  is  the  rosemary  !  Let  me  put  my  hands 
through  it,"  and  she  hastily  pulled  off  her  white  em 
broidered  gloves,  and  passed  her  hands,  shining  with  gems, 
through  the  deliciously  fragrant  green  leaves. 

"  I  have  a  passion  for  rosemary,"  she  continued,  "  It 
always  perfigures  good  fortune  to  me.  Sometimes  if  I  wake 


SWAFFHAM  AND   DE  WICK  n 

in  the  night  I  smell  it — I  smell  miles  of  it — and  then  I 
know  my  angel  has  been  to  see  me,  and  that  some  good 
thing  will  tread  in  her  footsteps." 

"  I  ever  think  of  rosemary  for  burials,"  said  Jane. 

"  And  I  for  bridals,  and  for  happiness  ;  but  it 

"  '  Grows  for  two  ends,  it  matters  not  at  all, 
Be  it  for  bridal,  or  for  burial.'  " 

"  That  is  true,  "  answered  Jane.  "  I  remember  hearing 
my  father  say  that  when  Queen  Elizabeth  made  her  joyful 
entry  into  London,  every  one  carried  rosemary  posies  ;  and 
that  Her  Grace  kept  in  her  hand,  from  the  Fleet  Bridge  to 
Westminster,  a  branch  of  rosemary  that  had  been  given 
her  by  a  poor  old  woman." 

"•  That  was  a  queen  indeed  !  Had  she  reigned  this  day, 
there  had  been  no  Cromwell." 

"  Who  can  tell  that  ?  England  had  to  come  out  of  the 
Valley  and  Shadow  of  Popery,  and  it  is  the  Lord  General's 
sword  that  shall  lead  her  into  the  full  light — there  is  some 
thing  round  your  neck,  Matilda,  that  looks  as  if  you  were 
still  in  darkness." 

Then  Matilda  laughed  and  put  her  hand  to  her  throat, 
and  slipped  into  her  bosom  a  rosary  of  coral  and  gold 
beads.  "  It  was  my  mother's,"  she  said  ;  "  you  know  that 
she  was  of  the  Old  Profession,  and  I  wear  it  for  her 
sake." 

"  It  is  said  that  Charles  Stuart  also  wears  one  for  his 
mother's  sake." 

"  It  is  a  good  man  that  remembers  a  good  mother ;  and 
the  King  is  a  good  man." 

"There   is   no   kino;   in    England   now,   Matilda,  and   no 

O  D 

question  of  one." 

"There   is    a   king,  whether  we  will  or  no.      The  king 


12  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

never  dies ;  the  crown  is  the  crown,  though  it  hang  on  a 
hedge  bush." 

"  That  is  frivolous  nonsense,  Matilda.  The  Parliament 
is  king." 

"  Oh,  the  pious  gang  !  This  is  a  strange  thing  that  has 
come  to  pass  in  our  day,  Jane — that  an  anointed  king  should 
be  deposed  and  slain.  Who  ever  heard  the  like  ?  " 

"  Read  your  histories,  Matilda.  It  is  a  common  thing 
for  tyrannical  kings  to  have  their  executioners.  Charles 
Stuart  suffered  lawfully  and  by  consent  of  Parliament." 

"  A  most  astonishing  difference  !  "  answered  Matilda, 
drawing  on  her  gloves  impatiently,  "  to  be  murdered  with 
consent  of  Parliament !  that  is  lawful ;  without  consent  of 
Parliament,  that  is  very  wicked  indeed.  But  even  as  a  man 
you  might  pity  him." 

"  Pity  him !  Not  I !  He  has  his  just  reward.  He 
bound  himself  for  his  enemies  with  cords  of  his  own  spin 
ning.  But  you  will  not  see  the  truth,  Matilda ' 

u  So  then,  it  is  useless  wasting  good  Puritan  breath  on 
me.  Dear  Jane,  can  we  never  escape  this  subject  ?  Here, 
in  this  sweet  room,  why  do  we  talk  of  tragedies  ?  " 

Jane  was  closing  the  still-room  door  as  this  question  was 
asked,  and  she  took  her  friend  by  the  arm  and  said,  "  Come, 
and  I  will  show  you  a  room  in  which  another  weak, 
wicked  king  prefigured  the  calamity  that  came  to  his  suc 
cessor  in  our  day."  Then  she  opened  a  door  in  the  same 
tower,  and  they  were  in  a  chamber  that  was,  even  on  this 
warm  harvest  day,  cold  and  dark.  For  the  narrow  loop 
hole  window  had  not  been  changed,  as  in  the  still-room,  for 

O          '  * 

wide  lattices ;  and  the  place  was  mouldy  and  empty  and 
pervaded  by  an  old,  unhappy  atmosphere. 

"  What   a   wretched   room  !     It   will  give  me  an  ague," 

O  O          * 

said  Matilda. 


SWAFFHAM  AND   DE  WICK  13 

"  It  was  to  this  room  King  John  came,  soon  after  his  barons 
had  compelled  him  to  sign  the  Great  Charter  of  Liberties. 
And  John  was  only  an  earlier  Charles  Stuart — just  as  tyran 
nical — just  as  false — and  his  barons  were  his  parliament. 
He  lay  on  the  floor  where  you  are  now  standing,  and  in  his 
passion  bit  and  gnawed  the  green  rushes  with  which  it  was 
strewed,  and  cursed  the  men  who  he  said  had  '  made  them 
selves  twenty-four  over-kings.'  So  you  see  that  it  is  not  a 
new  thing  for  Englishmen  to  war  against  their  kings." 

"  Poor  kings  !  " 

"  They  should  behave  themselves  better." 

"  Let  us  go  away.  I  am  shivering."  Then  as  they 
turned  from  the  desolate  place,  she  said  with  an  attempt  at 
indifference,  "  When  did  you  hear  from  Cymlin  ?  And 
pray  in  what  place  must  I  remember  him  now  ?  " 

"  I  know  not  particularly.  Wherever  the  Captain-Gen 
eral  is,  there  Cymlin  Swaffham  is  like  to  be." 

"  At  Ely,  they  were  talking  of  Cromwell  as  near  to 
Edinburgh." 

"  Then  we  shall  hear  tidings  of  him  soon.  He  goes  not 
anywhere  for  nothing." 

"  Why  do  you  not  ask  after  Stephen's  fortune — good  or 
bad?" 

"  I  did  not  at  the  moment  think  of  Stephen.  When 
Cromwell  is  in  the  mind  'tis  impossible  to  find  him  fit  com 
pany.  It  is  he,  and  he  only." 

"  Yet  if  ever  Stephen  de  Wick  gets  a  glimpse  of  home, 
it  is  not  home  to  him  until  he  has  been  at  Swaffham." 

Jane  made  no  answer,  and  they  walked  silently  to  the 
door  where  Matilda's  carriage  was  waiting.  Mrs.  Swaff 
ham  joined  them  as  Matilda  was  about  to  leave,  and  the  girl 
said,  "  I  had  come  near  to  forgetting  something  I  wished  to 
tell  you.  One  of  those  men  called  (Quakers  was  preaching 


i4  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

his  new  religion  at  Squire  Oliver  Leder's  last  night.  There 
was  much  disputing  about  him  to-day." 

u  I  wonder  then,"  said  Mrs.  SwafFham,  "that  we  were 
not  asked.  I  have  desired  to  hear  some  of  these  men.  It  is 
said  they  are  mighty  in  the  Scriptures,  and  that  they  preach 
peace,  which — God  knows — is  the  doctrine  England  now 
needs." 

"  Many  were  there.  I  heard  of  the  Flittons  and  Moss- 
leys  and  the  Traffords  and  others.  But  pray  what  is  the 
good  of  preaching  '  peace  '  when  Cromwell  is  going  up  and 
down  the  land  with  a  drawn  sword.  It  is  true  also  that 
these  Quakers  themselves  always  bring  quarreling  and  per 
secution  with  them." 

"  That  is  not  their  fault,"  said  Jane.  "  The  preacher 
can  only  give  the  Word,  and  if  people  will  quarrel  about  it 
and  rend  it  to  and  fro,  that  is  not  the  preacher's  fault.  But, 
indeed,  all  testify  that  these  people  called  Quakers  quake  at 
nothing,  and  are  stiff  and  unbendable  in  their  own  way." 

"  So  are  the  Independents,  and  the  Anabaptists,  and  the 
Presbyterians,  and  the  Fifth  Monarchy  Men,  and  the  Root 
and  Branch  Men,  and " 

"The  Papists,  and  the  Episcopalians,"  added  Jane. 

"  Eaith  !   No  one  can  deny  it." 

"What  said  Lady  Heneage  of  the  preacher?"  asked 
Mrs.  SwafFham. 

"  She  thought  he  ought  to  be  put  in  the  stocks ;  and  her 
sister  Isabel  said  that  he  was  a  good  man,  and  had  the  root 
of  the  matter  in  him.  Madame  Flitton  was  of  the  same 
opinion,  though  she  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  approve  en 
tirely.  Others  considered  him  full  of  temper  and  very  for 
ward,  and  the  argument  was  hot,  and  quite  Christian-like. 
I  heard  that  he  was  to  preach  again  at  Deeping  Den. 
Now  I  must  make  what  haste  I  can ;  my  father  will  be 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  15 

angry  at  my  delay.  Good-bye  !  faithful  till  we  meet 
again." 

"  She   says  '  faithful,'  yet  knows  not  how  to  be  faithful." 

Mrs.  Swaffham  did  not  answer  Jane's  remark.  She  was 
thinking  of  the  Quaker  sermon  at  Oliver  Leder's,  and  won 
dering  why  they  had  not  been  asked  to  hear  it.  "  We 
ought  to  have  been  asked,"  she  said  to  Jane  as  they  turned 
into  the  house.  "Leaving  out  Swafthamwas  bad  treat 
ment,  and  when  I  say  bad,  I  mean  bad.  Did  Matilda  take 
the  electuary  for  her  father  ?  " 

u  She  was  very  little  in  earnest,  and  had  forgotten  it  but 
for  my  reminding." 

"  She  is  much  changed." 

u  It  would  be  strange  indeed  if  she  was  not  changed. 
Before  these  troubles  she  was  a  girl  living  at  her  mother's 
knee,  petted  by  her  father,  and  the  idol  of  her  brothers. 
Two  of  her  brothers  fell  fighting;  by  the  side  of  Prince 

*_;  O  J 

Rupert,  her  mother  wept  herself  into  the  grave  for 
them,  her  father  is  still  nursing  the  wound  he  got  at  Naseby, 
and  her  only  brother,  Stephen,  is  with  Charles  Stuart,  wher 
ever  he  may  be.  If  such  troubles  did  not  change  a  girl,  she 
would  be  hewn  from  the  very  rock  of  selfishness.  Matilda 
is  far  from  that.  She  loves  with  a  whole  heart,  and  will  go 
all  lengths  to  prove  it.  We  do  not  know  the  new  Matilda 
yet." 

Jane  would  have  made  this  remark  still  more  positively, 
if  she  could  have  seen  her  friend  as  soon  as  Swaffham  was 
left  behind.  She  sat  erect,  lost  in  thought,  and  her  eyes 
had  a  look  in  them  full  of  anxiety  and  sorrow.  The  sad 
ness  of  an  immense  disillusion  was  over  her.  But  she  be 
longed  to  that  imperial  race  who  never  lose  heart  in  any 
trouble.  To  the  very  last  she  must  hope  ;  to  the  very  last 
believe  even  against  hope  and  against  reason.  Her  life  had 


16  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

gone  to  ruin,  but  she  trusted  that  some  miracle  would  re 
store  it.  Not  for  long  could  any  mood  of  despair  subdue 
her;  infallibly  she  must  shake  it  away.  For  there  was 
no  egotism  in  her  grief,  she  could  suffer  cheerfully  with 
others;  it  was  her  isolation  that  hurt  her.  All  her  old 
friends  had  departed.  The  grave  had  some ;  others  had 
taken  different  ways,  or  battle  and  exile  had  scattered  them. 
By  the  side  of  her  sick  father  she  stood  alone,  feeling  that 
even  Jane — her  familiar  friend — doubted  her,  no  longer 
took  her  at  her  word,  called  in  question  what  she  said,  and 
held  herself  so  far  aloof  that  she  could  not  reach  her  heart. 
Oppressed  by  such  considerations,  she  felt  like  a  child  that 
suddenly  realises  it  has  lost  its  way  and  is  left  alone  in  a 
wilderness. 

Nothing  in  her  surroundings  offered  her  any  help.  The 
road  was  flat  and  dreary  ;  a  wide  level  intersected  with  deep 
drains  and  "  droves  " — a  poor,  rough,  moist  land,  whose  hori 
zon  was  only  broken  by  the  towers  of  Ely,  vast  and  gray 
in  the  distance.  Large  iron  gates  admitted  her  to  de  Wick 
park,  and  she  entered  an  avenue  bordered  with  ash  trees, 
veiled  in  mist,  and  spreading  out  on  either  hand  into  a  green 
chase  full  of  tame  deer.  The  House — pieced  on  to  the 
broad  walls  of  an  Augustine  monastery — was  overshadowed 
by  ash  trees.  It  was  a  quadrangular  building  of  various 
dates,  the  gray  walls  rising  from  trim  gardens  with  box- 
edged  flower  plots  and  clipped  yew  hedges.  There  was  a 
large  fish  pond  teeming  with  perch,  and  pike,  and  eels  ;  and 
black  colonies  of  rooks  filled  the  surrounding  trees,  and 
perched  on  the  roof  of  the  mansion.  An  old-world  sleepy 
air,  lonely  and  apart  and  full  of  melancholy,  pervaded  the 
place. 

But  all  these  things  were  part  and  parcel  of  the  word 
Home.  Matilda  regarded  them  not  in  particular,  they  only 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  17 

affected  her  unconsciously  as  the  damp  air  or  the  gathering 
shadows  of  the  evening  did.  The  door  stood  open,  and  she 
passed  without  delay  into  the  wide  entrance  hall.  It  was 
chill  with  the  drifting  fog,  and  dark  with  the  coming  night 
shadows ;  hut  there  was  a  good  fire  of  ash  logs  at  the  upper 
end,  and  she  stood  a  few  minutes  before  it,  feeling  a  cer 
tain  exhilaration  in  its  pleasant  warmth  and  leaping  flame. 
Then  she  went  leisurely  up  the  broad  stairway.  It  was  of 
old  oak  with  curiously  carved  balusters,  surmounted  by  gro 
tesque  animal  forms ;  but  she  did  not  notice  these  ugly 
creations  as  she  climbed  with  graceful  lassitude  the  dark 
steps,  letting  her  silk  robe  trail  and  rustle  behind  her.  Her 
hat,  with  its  moist  drooping  feathers,  was  in  her  hand  ;  her 
hair  hung  limply  about  her  brow  and  face  ;  she  was  the  very 
picture  of  a  beauty  that  had  suffered  the  touch  of  adverse 
nature,  and  the  depression  of  unsympathetic  humanity. 

But  the  moment  she  entered  her  own  room  she  had  the 
sense  of  covert  and  refreshment.  Its  dark  splendour  of  oak 
and  damask  was  brought  out  by  the  glow  and  flame  of  fire 
light  and  candle-light ;  and  her  maid  came  forward  with  that 
air  of  affectionate  service,  which  in  Matilda's  present  mood 
seemed  of  all  things  most  grateful  and  pleasant.  She  put 
off  her  sense  of  alienation  and  unhappiness  with  her  damp 
clothing,  and  as  the  comfort  of  renewal  came  to  her  out 
wardly,  the  inner  woman  also  regained  her  authority;  and 
the  girl  conscious  of  this  potent  personality,  erected  herself 
in  its  strength  and  individuality.  She  surveyed  her  freshly 
clad  form  in  its  gown  of  blue  lutestring  ;  she  turned  right 
and  left  to  admire  a  fresh  arrangement  of  her  hair;  she  put 
around  her  neck,  without  pretense  of  secrecy  or  apology, 
the  rosary  of  coral  and  gold ;  and  admired  the  tint  and 
shimmer  of  its  beauty  on  her  white  throat.  Then  she 
asked  — 


18  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  Was  any  stranger  with  the  Earl  at  dinner,  Delia  ?  " 

"  My  lady,  he  dined  with  Father  Sacy  alone." 

"  And  pray  what  did  they  eat  for  dinner  ?  " 

"There  was  a  sucking  pig  roasted  with  juniper  wood  and 
rosemary  branches,  and  a  jugged  hare,  and  a  pullet,  and 
some  clotted  cream  and  a  raspberry  tart.  All  very  good, 
my  lady ;  will  you  please  to  eat  something  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  will  have  some  jugged  hare,  and  some  clotted 
cream,  and  a  raspberry  tart — and  a  glass  of  Spanish  wine, 
Delia,  and  a  pitcher  of  new  milk.  Have  them  served  as 
soon  as  possible." 

"  In  what  room,  my  lady  ?  " 

"  In  what  room  is  the  Earl,  my  father,  now  sitting  ?  " 

"  In  the  morning  room." 

"  Then  serve  it  in  the  morning  room." 

She  took  one  comfortable  glance  at  herself,  and  in  the 
pleasure  of  its  assurance  went  down-stairs.  Her  step  was 
now  firm  and  rapid,  yet  she  paused  a  moment  at  the  door 
of  the  room  she  wished  to  enter,  and  called  up  smiles  to 
her  face  and  a  sort  of  cheerful  bravado  to  her  manner  ere 
she  lifted  the  steel  hasp  that  admitted  her.  In  a  moment 
her  quick  eyes  took  a  survey  of  its  occupants.  They  were 
only  two  men — Earl  de  Wick,  and  his  chaplain,  Father 
Sacy.  Both  were  reading ;  the  Earl,  Sir  Philip  Sidney's 
Arcadia  ;  the  Chaplain,  the  Evening  Service  in  the  Book  of 
Common  Prayer.  Neither  of  them  noticed  her  entrance, 
and  she  went  straight  to  her  father's  side,  and  covering  the 
open  page  with  her  hand,  said  in  a  merry  tone  — 

"  Here  is  a  noble  knight  dwelling  in  Arcadia,  while  the 
great  Captain-General  Cromwell 

"The  devil!" 

"  Is  going  up  and  down  and  to  and  fro  in  the  land,  seeking 
whom  he  may  devour.  I  have  been  at  Ely  and  at  SwafF- 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  19 

ham,  gathering  what  news  I  can,  and  I  assure  you,  sir, 
there  is  none  to  our  comfort." 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?     Anything  about  the  Scots  ?  " 

"  Cromwell  is  in  Scotland.  What  do  you  expect  from 
that  news  ?  " 

u  That  Leslie  will  be  his  match." 

"  Then  you  will  be  disappointed.  '  There  is  a  tide  in  the 
affairs  of  men,'  and  this  tide  of  Cromwell  and  the  Com 
monwealth  is  going  to  sweep  all  royalty  and  all  nobility 
into  the  deep  sea." 

"  Well,  then,  I  may  as  well  return  to  my  Arcadia  and 
learn  how  to  be  rustical.  We  nobles  may  play  at  Canute 
if  we  like — but — but " 

"  It  is  useless,  while  this  man's  star  flames  in  the  firma 
ment.  I  hear  that  the  Parliament  rose  bareheaded  to  re 
ceive  him  when  he  last  entered  the  House.  If  he  were 
king,  they  could  have  done  no  more.  They  have  also 
given  to  him  and  his  family  a  royal  lodging  in  the  Cockpit, 
and  already  the  women  are  removed  thither.  If  he  con 
quers  the  Scotch  army,  what  more  can  they  offer  him  but 
the  crown  ?  " 

"Those  unlucky  Stuarts!  They  will  swallow  up  all 
England's  chivalry.  Oh,  for  one  campaign  with  Queen 
Elizabeth  at  its  head  !  She  would  send  old  Oliver  with  his 
Commonwealth  to  the  bottomless  pit,  and  order  him  to  tell 
the  devil  that  Elizabeth  Tudor  sent  him  there." 

"  The  Stuarts  are  of  God's  anointing ;  and  there  are  bad 
kings,  and  unlucky  kings  in  all  royal  houses.  I  stood  to 
day  where  King  John  lay  cursing  and  biting  the  rushes  on 
the  floor,  because  his  barons  had  made  themselves  his  over- 
kings." 

"John's  barons  had  some  light,"  said  the  Earl.  "They 
hated  John  for  the  reason  England  now  hates  the  Stuarts. 


20  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

He  perjured  himself  neck  deep;  he  brought  in  foreign 
troops  to  subjugate  Englishmen;  he  sinned  in  all  things  as 
Charles  Stuart  has  sinned." 

"  Sir,  are  you  not  going  too  far  ?  "  asked  the  Chaplain, 
lifting  his  eyes  from  his  book. 

"  I  thought  you  were  at  your  prayers,  father.  No,  by 
all  that  is  truthful,  I  am  right !  In  the  Great  Charter,  the 
barons  specially  denounce  King  John  as  '  re  gem  perjurum 
ac  baronibus  rebellem?  The  same  thing  might  fairly  be 
said  of  Charles  Stuart.  Yet  while  a  Stuart  is  King  of 
England,  it  is  the  de  Wicks'  duty  to  stand  by  him.  But  I 
would  to  God  I  had  lived  when  Elizabeth  held  the  sceptre  ! 
No  Cromwell  had  smitten  it  out  of  her  hand,  as  Cromwell 
smote  it  from  the  hand  of  Charles  on  Naseby's  field." 

"  That  is  supposition,  my  Lord." 

"  It  is  something  more,  father.  Elizabeth  had  to  deal 
with  a  fiercer  race  than  Charles  had,  but  she  knew  how  to 
manage  it.  Look  at  the  pictures  of  the  de  Wicks  in  her 
time.  They  are  the  pictures  of  men  who  would  stand  for 
their  rights  against  '  prerogative '  of  any  kind,  yet  the  great 
Queen  made  them  obey  her  lightest  word.  How  did  she 
do  it  ?  I  will  tell  you — she  scorned  to  lie  to  them ;  and 
she  was  brave  as  a  lion.  If  she  had  wanted  the  Five 
Members  in  the  Tower  of  London,  they  would  have  gone 
to  the  Tower  of  London  ;  her  crown  for  it !  It  was  my 
great-grandfather  who  held  her  bridal  reins  when  she  re 
viewed  her  troops  going  to  meet  the  Spaniards  of  the 
Armada.  No  hesitating,  no  tampering,  no  doubts,  no  fears 
moved  her.  She  spoke  one  clear  word  to  them,  and  she 
threw  herself  unreservedly  upon  their  love  and  loyalty. 
4  Let  tyrants  fear  !  '  she  cried.  '  I  have  placed  my  chief 
strength  in  the  loyal  hearts  of  my  subjects,  and  I  am  come 
amongst  you  resolved  to  live  or  die  amongst  you  all — to 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  21 

lay  down  for  God,  and  my  kingdom,  and  my  people,  my 
honour  and  my  blood,  even  in  the  dust.  I  know  I  have  the 
body  of  a  weak  woman,  but  I  have  the  heart  and  stomach 
of  a  king,  and  of  a  King  of  England,  too ;  and  I  think  foul 
scorn  that  Spain,  or  any  prince  of  Europe  should  dare  to 
invade  the  borders  of  my  realm  !  '  This  was  Elizabeth's 
honest  temper,  and  if  Charles  Stuart  in  throwing  himself 
upon  his  nobles  and  his  country  had  been  true  to  them,  he 
would  never  have  gone  to  the  scaffold.  This  I  say  boldly, 
and  I  mean  what  I  say." 

"  Sir,  many  would  mistake  your  words,  and  think  you  less 
than  loyal." 

"  Father,  I  have  proved  my  loyalty  with  my  children  and 
my  blood  ;  but  among  my  own  people  and  at  my  own  hearth, 
I  may  say  that  I  would  I  had  better  reason  for  my  loyalty. 
I  am  true  to  my  king,  but  above  all  else,  I  love  my  coun 
try.  I  love  her  beyond  all  words,  though  I  am  grateful  to 
one  great  Englishman  for  finding  me  words  that  I  have 
dipped  in  my  heart's  blood  ;  words  that  I  uttered  on  the 
battle-field  joyfully,  when  I  thought  they  were  my  last 
words  — 

"  '  —  — this  blessed  spot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this  England, 


This  land  of  such  dear  souls,  this  dear,  dear  land !  ' : 

"  If  to  this  degree  you  love  England,  father,  how  would 
you  like  to  see  this  beggarly  Cromwell  upon  her  throne  ? 
How  would  you  teach  your  head  to  bow  to  this  upstart 
majesty  ?  " 

"  Matilda,  to  the  devil  we  may  give  his  due,  and  there  is 
naught  of  '  beggary  '  in  Cromwell  or  in  his  family.  They 
have  entertained  kings,  and  sat  with  nobles  as  equals,  and  as 
for  the  man  himself,  he  is  a  gentleman  by  birth  and  breed 
ing.  I  say  it,  for  I  have  known  him  his  life  long,  and  if 


22  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

you  add  every  crime  to  his  name,  I  will  still  maintain  that 
he  has  sinned  with  a  clear  conscience.  He  stood  by  Charles 
Stuart,  and  strove  to  save  him  until  he  found  that  Charles 
Stuart  stood  by  no  man,  and  could  be  trusted  by  no  man." 

"  My  lord,  you  are  very  just  to  the  man  Cromwell.  Some 
would  not  thank  you  for  it." 

"  If  we  cannot  be  just,  father,  we  may  doubt  the  fair 
ness  of  our  cause,  perhaps  also  of  our  motives.  'Tis  im 
possible  to  consider  this  man's  life  since  he  walked  to  the 
front  of  the  Parliamentary  army  and  not  wonder  at  it." 

"  He  is  but  the  man  of  the  hour,  events  have  made  him." 

"  Not  so  !  His  success  is  in  him,  'tis  the  breed  of  his  own 
heart  and  brain.  Well,  then,  this  Scotch  campaign  is  the 
now  or  never  of  our  effort.  If  it  fail,  we  may  have  a 
Cromwell  dynasty." 

"  'Tis  an  impossible  event.  The  man  has  slain  the  king 
of  England  and  throttled  the  Church  of  Christ.  Even  this 
holy  Book  in  my  hand  has  his  condemnation — these  gracious 
prayers  and  collects,  whose  music  is  ready  made  for  every 
joy  and  sorrow — this  noble  Creed  which  we  ought  to  sing 
upon  our  knees,  for  nothing  made  of  English  words  was 
ever  put  together  like  it — yet  you  know  how  Cromwell's 
Root  and  Branch  men  have  slandered  it." 

"  Alas,  father  !  one  kind  of  Christian  generally  slanders  all 
other  kinds.  The  worshipers  of  the  heathen  gods  were  at 
least  tolerant.  A  pagan  gentleman  who  had  faith  in  his 
own  image  of  Bona  Dea  could  still  be  friendly  to  an  ac 
quaintance  who  believed  in  Jupiter.  But  we  are  not  even 
civil  to  our  neighbours  unless  they  think  about  our  God  just 
as  we  do." 

"  What  say  you  if,  for  once,  we  part  without  Cromwell 
between  our  good-wills  and  our  good-nights  ?  Father,  I 
have  seen  to-day  a  fan  of  ostrich  feathers ;  'tis  with  Gaius 


SWAFFHAM  AND  DE  WICK  23 

the  packman,  who  will  be  here  in  the  morning.  Also,  1 
want  some  housewifery  stores,  and  some  embroidery  silks, 
and  ballads,  and  a  book  of  poems  written  by  one  Mr.  John 
Milton,  who  keeps  a  school  in  London." 

"  I  know  the  man.     We  will  have  none  of  his  poems." 

"  But,  father,  I  may  have  the  other  things  ?  " 

"  You   will  take  no  nay-say." 

"  Then  a  good-night,  sir  !  " 

"  Not  yet.  I  will  have  my  pay  for  '  the  other  things.' 
You  shall  sing  to  me.  Your  lute  lies  there.  Come — 'It  is 
early  in  the  morning.' '  She  was  singing  the  first  line  as  she 
went  for  her  lute,  and  de  Wick  closed  his  eyes  and  lay 
smiling  while  the  old,  old  ditty  filled  the  room  with  its 
sweetness  — 

"  It  is  early  in  the  morning, 

At  the  very  break  of"  day, 
My  Love  and  ]  go  roaming, 

All  in  the  woods  so  gay. 
The  dew  like  pearl  drops  bathes  our  feet, 

The  sweet  dewdrops  of  May 

"  In  the  sweetest  place  of  any, 

'  Mid  the  grasses  thick  and  high 

Caring  nothing  for  the  dewdrops, 
That  around  us  thickly  lie. 

Bathed  in  glittering  May-dew, 
Sit  we  there,  my  Love  and  I  ! 

"  As  we  pluck  the  whitethorn  blossom, 

As  we  whisper  words  of  love, 
Prattling  close  beside  the  brooklet, 

Sings  the  lark,  and  coos  the  dove. 
Our  feet  arc  bathed  in  May-dew, 

And  our  hearts  are  bathed  in  love." 


24  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Happily,  tenderly,  fell  the  musical  syllables  to  the  tin 
kling  lute,  and  as  she  drew  to  a  close,  still  singing,  she  passed 
smiling  out  of  the  room  ;  leaving  the  door  open  however, 
so  that  they  heard  her  voice  growing  sweetly  softer  and 
softer,  and  further  and  further  away,  until  it  left  nothing 
but  the  delightsome  echo  in  their  hearts  — 

"  Our  feet  are  bathed  in  May-dew 

And  our  hearts  are  bathed  in  love." 


CHAPTER  II 

DOCTOR    JOHN    VERITY 

"  Some  trust  in  chariots  and  some  in  horses  ;  but  we  will  re 
member  the  name  of  the  Lord  our  God." 

"  The  Lord  strong  and  mighty  ;  the  Lord  mighty  in  battle." 

As  Matilda  went  singing  up  the  darksome  stairway,  the 
moon  rose  in  the  clear  skies  and  flooded  the  place  with  a 
pallid,  fugitive  light.  In  that  unearthly  glow  she  looked 
like  some  spiritual  being.  It  gave  to  her  pale  silk  robe  a 
heavenly  radiance.  It  fell  upon  her  white  hands  touching 
the  lute,  and  upon  her  slightly  raised  face,  revealing  the 
rapt  expression  of  one  who  is  singing  with  the  heart  as 
well  as  with  the  lips.  The  clock  struck  nine  as  she  reached 
the  topmost  step,  and  she  raised  her  voice  to  drown  the 
chiming  bell  ;  and  so,  in  a  sweet  crescendo  of  melody, 
passed  out  of  si«-ht  and  out  of  hearing. 

i  O  O 

About  the  same  time,  Mrs.  Swaffham  and  Jane  stood 
together  on  the  eastern  terrace  of  the  Manor  House,  silently 
admiring  the  moonlight  over  the  level  land.  But  in  a  few 
moments  Jane  began  in  a  low  voice  to  recite  the  first  verse 
of  the  one  huivired  and  third  Psalm  ;  her  mother  took  the 
second  verse,  they  clasped  hands,  and  as  they  slowly  paced 
the  grassy  walk  they  went  with  antiphonal  gladness  through 
the  noble  thanksgiving  together.  The  ninety-first  Psalm 
followed  it,  and  then  Mrs.  Swaffham  said  — 

"  Now,  Jane,  let  us  go  to  bed  and  try  to  sleep.  I  haven't 
been  worth  a  rush  to-day  for  want  of  my  last  night's  sleep. 
There's  a  deal  to  do  to-morrow,  and  it  won't  be  done  un- 


26  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

less  I  am  at  the  bottom  of  everything.  My  soul,  too,  is 
wondrous  heavy  to-night.  I  keep  asking  it  c  Why  art  thou 
cast  down,  O  my  soul,  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within 
me  ? '  and  I  get  no  answer  from  it." 

"  You  must  add  counsel  to  inquiry,  mother.  Finish  the 
verse — '  Trust  thou  in  God,  and  thou  shalt  yet  praise  Him, 
who  is  the  health  of  thy  countenance,  and  thy  God.'  You 
see,  you  are  to  answer  yourself." 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that,  Jane.  A  sad  heart  is  poor  com 
pany,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  There  is  an  old  saying,  mother, — i  A  merry  heart  goes 
all  the  day.' " 

"  But  who  knows  how  much  the  merry  heart  may  have 
to  carry  ?  There  is  another  saying  still  older,  Jane,  that  is 
a  good  deal  better  than  that.  It  is  God's  grand  charter  of 
help,  and  you'll  find  it,  dear,  in  Romans  eighth  and  twenty- 
eighth.  I  can  tell  you,  my  heart  would  have  failed  me 
many  and  many  a  time,  it  would  indeed,  but  for  that  verse." 

"Are  you  troubled  about  my  father  and  brothers  ?" 

"  Oh,  Jane,  that  is  the  sword  point  at  my  heart.  Any 
hour  it  may  pierce  me.  Cromwell  went  to  Scotland,  and 
what  for  but  to  fight  ?  and  my  men-folk  have  not  charmed 
lives." 

"  But  their  lives  are  hid  with  Christ  in  God ;  nothing  can 
hurt  them,  that  is  not  of  His  sending." 

"  Yes  !  Yes  !  But  I  am  a  wife  and  a  mother,  and  you 
know  not  yet  what  that  means,  Jane.  All  day  I  have  been 
saying — no  matter  what  my  hands  were  doing — let  this  cup 
pass  me,  Lord.  If  your  father  fell  ! — if  John,  or  Cymlin, 
or  Tonbert  were  left  on  the  battle-field  !  Oh,  Jane  !  Jane  !  " 
and  the  terror  that  had  haunted  her  all  day  and  shown  it 
self  in  an  irrepressible  fretfulness,  now  sought  relief  in  tears 
and  sobbing.  Jane  kissed  and  comforted  the  sorrowful 


27 

woman.  She  led  her  up-stairs,  and  helped  her  into  the  sanc 
tuary  of  sleep  by  many  brave  and  hopeful  words ;  and  it  so 
happened  that  she  finally  uttered  a  promise  that  had  once 
been  given  to  the  anxious  wife  and  mother,  as  a  sacred  se 
cret  token  of  help  and  deliverance.  And  when  she  heard 
the  gracious  words  dropping  from  Jane's  lips  she  said — 
"  That  is  sufficient.  Once,  when  I  was  in  great  fear  for 
your  father,  the  Lord  gave  me  that  assurance ;  now  He 
sends  it  by  you.  I  am  satisfied.  I  will  lay  me  down  and 
sleep  ;  the  words  will  sing  in  my  heart  all  night  long,"  and 
she  said  them  softly  as  Jane  kissed  her — "  '  From  the  begin 
ning  of  our  journey,  the  Lord  delivered  us  from  every 
enemy.' ' 

Then  Jane  went  to  her  own  room.  It  was  a  large,  low 
room  on  the  morning  side  of  the  house,  and  it  was  an  illus 
tration  of  the  girl — a  place  of  wide,  free  spaces,  and  no  fur 
niture  in  it  that  was  for  mere  ornament — a  small  tent  bed 
draped  with  white  dimity,  a  dressing-table  equally  plain  and 
spotless,  a  stand  on  which  lay  her  Bible,  a  large  oak  chair  of 
unknown  age,  and  two  or  three  chairs  of  the  simplest  form 
made  of  plaited  rushes  and  willow  wands.  Some  pots  of 
sweet  basil  and  geranium  were  in  the  casements,  and  the 
place  was  permeated  with  a  peace  and  perfume  that  is  inde 
scribable. 

To  this  sweet  retreat  Jane  went  with  eager  steps.  She 
closed  the  door,  slipped  the  iron  bolt  into  its  place,  and  then 
lit  a  rush  candle.  The  light  was  dim,  but  sufficient.  In  it 
she  disrobed  herself,  and  loosened  the  long  braids  of  pale 
brown  hair  ;  then  she  put  out  the  candle  and  let  the  moon 
light  flood  the  room,  make  whiter  the  white  draperies,  and 
add  the  last  ravishing  touch  of  something  heavenly,  and 
something  apart  from  the  sphere  of  our  unrest  and  sorrow. 

For  some  time   she   sat  voiceless,  motionless.      Was   she 


28  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

dreaming  of  happiness,  or  learning  to  suffer  ?  Neither,  con 
sciously  ;  she  was  "  waiting  "  on  the  Eternal,  waiting  for 
that  desire  God  Himself  fdrms  in  the  soul— that  secret 
voice  that  draws  down  mercies  and  spiritual  favours  which 
no  one  knoweth  but  they  who  receive  them.  And  Jane 
was  well  aware  that  it  was  only  in  the  serene  depth  of  a 
quiescent  will  she  could  rise  above  the  meanness  of  fear 
and  the  selfishness  of  hope,  and  present  that  acceptable 
prayer  which  would  be  omnipotent  with  God  : — omnipo 
tent,  because  so  wonderfully  aided  by  all  those  strange 
things  and  secret  decrees  and  unrevealed  transactions 
which  are  beyond  the  stars ;  but  which  all  combine  in  min 
istry  with  the  praying  soul. 

That  night,  however,  she  could  not  escape  the  tremor  and 
tumult  of  her  own  heart,  and  the  sorrowful  apprehension 
of  her  mother.  Peace  was  far  from  her.  She  sat  almost 
breathless,  she  rose  and  walked  softly  to  and  fro,  she  stood 
with  uplifted  thoughts  in  the  moonlit  window — nothing 
brought  her  clarity  and  peace  of  mind.  And  when  at 
length  she  fell  into  the  sleep  of  pure  weariness,  it  was 
haunted  by  dreams  full  of  turmoil  and  foreshadowings  of 
calamity.  She  awoke  weary  and  unrefreshed,  and  with  a 
sigh  opened  a  casement  and  looked  at  the  outer  world 
again.  How  good  it  seemed  !  In  what  gray,  wild  place  of 
sorrow  and  suffering  had  she  been  wandering  ?  She  did 
not  know  its  moors  and  bogs,  and  the  noise  of  its  black, 
rolling  waters.  How  different  were  the  green  terraces  of 
Swaffham  !  the  sweet  beds  of  late  lilies  and  autumn  flow 
ers  !  the  rows  of  tall  hollyhocks  dripping  in  the  morning 
mist !  A  penetrating  scent  of  marjoram  and  lavender  was 
in  the  air,  a  sense,  too,  of  ended  summer,  in  spite  of  the 
lilies  and  the  stately  hollyhocks.  She  came  down  with  a 
smile,  but  her  mother's  face  was  wan  and  tired. 


DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY  29 

" 1  hoped  I  should  have  had  a  good  dream  last  night, 
Jane,"  she  said  sadly,  "  but  I  dreamt  nothing  to  the  pur 
pose.  I  wonder  when  we  shall  have  a  letter.  I  do  not 
feel  able  to  do  anything  to-day.  I'm  not  all  here.  My 
mind  runs  on  things  far  away  from  SwafFham.  I  am  going 
to  let  some  of  the  work  take  its  own  way  for  a  week.  In 
all  conscience,  we  should  have  news  by  that  time." 

So  the  anxious  days  went  by  for  a  week,  and  there  was 
still  no  word.  Then  Jane  went  over  to  de  Wick,  hoping 
that  the  Earl  might  have  news  from  his  son,  which  would 
at  least  break  the  voiceless  tension  of  their  fears.  But  the 
Earl  was  in  the  same  state — restless,  perplexed,  wistfully 
eager  concerning  the  situation  of  the  opposing  armies.  In 
their  mutual  sorrowful  conjectures  they  forgot  their  polit 
ical  antipathies,  and  a  loving  apprehension  drew  them  to 
gether  ;  they  could  not  say  unkind  things,  and  Jane  was 
even  regretful  for  her  cool  attitude  towards  Matilda  on  her 
last  visit  to  SwafFham.  They  drew  close  to  each  other, 
they  talked  in  low  voices  of  the  absent,  they  clasped  hands 
as  they  walked  together  through  the  lonely  park  in  the 
autumn  afternoon.  They  also  agreed  that  whoever  had 
news  first  should  send  a  swift  messenger  to  the  other,  no 
matter  what  the  tidings  should  be.  When  they  parted,  Jane 
kissed  her  friend,  a  token  of  love  she  had  not  given  her  for 
a  long  time,  and  Matilda  was  so  affected  by  this  return  of 
sympathy  that  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and 
wept.  "  Oh,  Jane  !  "  she  said,  "  I  have  been  so  lonely  !  ". 

And  as  Jane  answered  her  with  affectionate  assurances, 
there  came  into  her  heart  a  sudden  anticipation  of  intelli 
gence.  Without  consideration,  v/ith  no  purpose  of  mere 
encouragement,  she  said  confidently  —  "  There  is  some 
one  on  the  way.  I  seem  to  hear  them  coming."  So  they 
parted,  and  Jane  brought  home  with  her  a  hope  which 


3o  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

would  not  be  put  down.  Her  face  was  so  bright  and  her 
voice  so  confident  that  her  mother  felt  the  influence  of  her 
spirit,  and  anon  shared  it.  The  night  was  too  damp  and 
chill  for  their  usual  bedtime  walk  on  the  terrace,  but  they 
sat  together  on  the  hearth,  knitting  and  talking  until  the 
evening  was  far  spent.  Then  Mrs.  SwafFham  dropped  her 
work  upon  her  lap,  and  she  and  Jane  began  their  private 
evening  exercise  : 

"Then  said  he  unto  me,  thou  art  sore  troubled  in  mind 
for  Israel's  sake ;  lovest  thou  that  people  better  than  He 
that  made  them  ? 

"  And  I  said,  No,  Lord,  but  of  very  grief  have  I  spoken  ; 
for  my  reins  pain  me  every  hour,  while  I  labour  to  compre 
hend  the  way  of  the  most  High,  and  to  seek  out  part  of 
His  judgment. 

"  And  he  said  unto  me,  thou  canst  not.  And  I  said 
wherefore,  Lord,  whereunto  was  I  born  then  ?  or  why  was 
not  my  mother's  womb  my  grave,  that  I  might  not  have 
seen  the  travail  of  Jacob,  and  the  wearisome  toil  of  the 
stock  of  Israel  ? 

"  And  he  said  unto  me,  number  me  the  things  that  are 
not  yet  come  ;  gather  me  together  the  drops  that  are  scat 
tered  abroad ;  make  me  the  flowers  green  again  that  are 
withered. 

"  Open  me  the  places  that  are  closed,  and  bring  me  forth 
the  winds  that  in  them  are  shut  up  ;  show  me  the  image  of 
a  voice ;  and  then  I  will  declare  to  thee  the  thing  that  thou 
labourest  to  know. 

"  And  I  said,  O  Lord  that  bearest  rule  ;  who  may  know 
these  things,  but  he  that  hath  not  his  dwelling  with  men  ? 

"  As  for  me  I  am  unwise  ;  how  may  I  speak  of  these 
things  whereof  thou  askest  me  ? 

"  Then    he   said  unto  me,  like  as  thou  canst  do  none  of 


DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY  31 

these  things  that  I  have  spoken  of,  even  so  canst  thou  not 
find  out  my  judgment  ;  or  in  the  end,  the  love  that  I  have 
promised  unto  mv  people." 

And  when  the  short  antiphony  was  finished,  they  kissed 
each  other  a  hopeful  "good-night,"  being  made  strong  in 
this — that  they  had  put  self  out  of  their  supplication,  and 
been  only  "  troubled  in  mind  for  Israel's  sake." 

All  were  in  deep  sleep  when  the  blast  of  a  trumpet 
and  the  trampling  of  a  heavily-shod  horse  on  the  stones  of 
the  courtyard  awakened  them.  Jane's  quick  ear  detected 
at  once  the  tone  of  triumph  in  the  summons.  She  ran  to 
her  mother's  room,  and  found  her  at  an  open  window.  She 
was  calling  aloud  to  the  messenger,  "  Is  it  you,  Doctor  Ver 
ity  ?  "  and  the  answer  came  swift  and  strong,  ere  the  ques 
tion  was  fairly  asked  — 

"  It  is  I,  John  Verity,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  and 
good  tidings." 

"  Get  your  horse  to  sta61e,  Doctor,  and  we  will  be  down 
to  welcome  you."  The  next  moment  the  house  was  astir 
from  one  end  to  the  othei — bells  were  ringing,  lights  mov 
ing  hither  and  thither,  men  and  women  running  down 
stairs,  and  at  the  open  door  Mrs.  SwafFham  and  Jane 
waiting  for  the  messenger,  their  eager  faces  and  shining 
eyes  full  of  hope  and  expectation. 

He  kept  them  waiting  until  he  had  seen  his  weary  horse 
attended  to,  then  hurrying  across  the  courtyard  he  clasped 
the  hands  held  out  in  welcome,  and  with  a  blessinc-  on  his 

O 

lips  came  into  the  lighted  room.  It  was  joy  and  strength 
to  look  at  him.  His  bulk  was  like  that  of  the  elder  gods  ; 
his  head  like  an  antique  marble,  his  hazel  eyes  beaming, 
joyous,  and  full  of  that  light  which  comes  "  from  within." 
A  man  of  large  mind  as  well  as  ot  large  stature,  with  a 
simple,  good  heart,  that  could  never  grow  old  ;  strong  and 


32  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

courageous,  yet  tender  as  a  girl ;  one  who  in  the  battle  of 
life  would  always  go  to  the  front. 

So  it  was  good  even  to  see  him,  and  how  much  better  to 
hear  him  say  — 

"  Israel  Swaffham  is  well,  and  God  hath  given  us  a 
great  victory." 

"  And  John  ?  " 

"  I  left  him  following  after  the  enemy.  We  have  smit 
ten  them  hip  and  thigh  ;  we  — 

"  And  Cymlin  ?  " 

u  He  was  guarding  the  prisoners.  We  have  ten  thou 
sand  of  them,  and " 

"  And  Tonbert  ?  " 

"  Nothing  has  hurt  him.  He  was  in  a  strait  for  one  five 
minutes  ;  but  I  cried  to  him — '  Set  thy  teeth,  and  fight  for 
thy  life,  Tonbert ; '  and  he  came  safely  away  with  the  col 
ours  in  his  hands,  when  he  had  slain  two  of  the  rogues  who 
wanted  them." 

"  Now  then,  we  shall  have  peace,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  No  use,  Martha,  in  crying  peace  !  peace  !  when  peace 
is  wickedness.  Our  Protestant  liberty  was  won  by  men 
willing  to  go  to  the  stake  for  it ;  our  civil  liberty  can  only 
be  won  by  men  willing  to  go  to  the  battle-field  for  it.  But 
here  come  the  beef  and  bread,  and  I  am  a  hungry  man. 
Let  me  eat  and  drink.  And  you  women,  bless  the  Lord 
and  forget  not  all  His  benefits." 

It  was  not  long  before  he  took  a  pipe  from  his  pocket, 
lit  it,  and  drew  his  chair  to  the  hearthstone.  "  Now  we 
will  talk,"  he  said.  "  When  did  you  hear  of  us  last  ?  " 

"  About  the  tenth  of  August.  You  were  then  in  camp 
near  Edinburgh,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham. 

"  To  be  sure — having  a  paper  war  with  the  Kirk  and 
David  Leslie.  It  was  little  to  Cromwell's  liking,  and  no 


DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY  33 

more  to  David  Leslie's;  both  of  them  would  rather  defi 
ance  of  battle  than  Declarations  from  the  General  Assem 
bly.  They  came  to  nothing,  and  as  the  weather  was  bad 
and  our  provisions  short,  and  our  men  falling  sick  beyond 
imagination,  we  retreated  to  Dunbar  to  fortify  and  recruit. 
Then  the  cunning  Scots  got  behind  us  and  blocked  up  our 
way.  We  were  in  a  bad  case,  Martha,  between  Leslie 
and  the  black  North  Sea — in  a  trap,  and  no  less.  For  the 
first  time  our  good  Cromwell  faced  defeat,  yes,  annihila 
tion.  Did  he  lose  heart  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  He  sent  word 
south  to  get  men  ready  to  meet  Leslie,  whatever  became 
of  us  ;  and  then  he  watched  and  waited  and  prayed.  Such 
prayer!  Martha.  I  saw  him  lifting  up  his  sword  to  heaven 
— I  heard  him  speaking  to  God — pressing  forward  and  up 
ward — bent  on  prevailing — taking  heaven  by  assault. 
About  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  battle  I  went  to 
him.  It  was  yet  dark,  but  the  men  were  at  arms,  and 
Cromwell  was  going  from  troop  to  troop  encouraging  them. 
I  said  to  him,  '  Brother  Oliver,  you  have  o-ot  an  answer  ? ' 

7  '    J  O 

And  he  smiled  joyfully  and  said: 

"'  It  is  in  my  heart,  John.  When  the  devil  had  said  all 
he  had  to  say,  then  God  spoke.  Indeed  I  have  great  con 
solations.  I  know,  and  am  sure,  that  because  of  our  weak 
ness,  because  of  our  strait,  the  Lord  will  deliver  us.  But 
tell  the  men  that  whoever  has  a  heart  for  prayer,  must  pray 
now ;  and  then  quit  themselves  like  men — there  is  ONE 
watching  and  helping  them.' 

"  You  women  would  not  understand  the  setting  of  the 
battle.  It  is  enough  that  it  began  at  four  in  the  morning, 
and  that  by  nine  o'clock  there  was  no  longer  a  Scotch 
army — three  thousand  of  it  were  slain  in  the  battle,  many 
more  killed  in  pursuit.  We  had  all  their  baggage  and  ar 
tillery,  besides  fifteen  thousand  stand  of  arms  and  two  hun- 


34  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

dred  colours  to  hang  up  in  Westminster  Hall — and  not 
twenty  Englishmen  killed.  The  Scots  came  forward  shout 
ing,  '  The  Covenant  !  The  Covenant!'  and  Cromwell  thun 
dered  back,  'THE  LORD  OF  HOSTS  !  '  His  voice  seemed 
to  fill  the  field.  It  was  heard  above  the  clash  of  the 
swords,  and  the  shouting  of  the  captains — and  it  was 
caught  by  thousands  of  other  voices — above  the  bellowing 
of  the  cannon.  It  was  an  invocation,  it  was  a  shout  ot 
triumph,  and  indeed  THE  LORD  OF  HOSTS  was  above 
The  Covenant." 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  have  seen  Cromwell  at  that  onset !  just 
for  a  moment !  "  exclaimed  Jane. 

"  At  the  onset !  Yes  !  It  is  something  never  to  forget. 
He  leaps  to  his  horse,  rides  to  the  head  of  his  troop,  and 
gallops  it  to  the  very  front  of  the  battle.  I  saw  him  at 
Dunbar,  his  Ironsides  in  bufF  and  rusty  steel  shouting  after 
him — sons  of  Anak  most  of  them — God's  soldiers,  not 
men's ;  and  led  by  one  whose  swoop  and  stroke  in  battle 
no  one  ever  saw  equaled.  All  through  the  fight  he  was  a 
pillar  of  fire  to  us  ;  and  just  when  it  was  hottest  the  sun 
rose  upon  the  sea,  and  Cromwell  took  it  for  a  sign  of  pres 
ent  victory,  and  shouted  to  his  army,  '  Now  let  God  arise, 
and  His  enemies  shall  be  scattered.'  ' 

"  I  can  see  him !   I  can  hear  him  !  "  cried  Jane. 

"And  at  that  moment,  the  Scots  broke  and  fled,  and  the 
field  was  ours.  Then  he  called  a  halt,  and  to  steady  his 
men  and  fire  them  afresh  for  the  pursuit,  he  sang  with  us 
the  one  hundred  and  seventeenth  Psalm.  And  one  troop 
after  another  caught  the  words,  and  for  two  miles  men  lean 
ing  upon  their  swords  were  singing,  '  O  praise  the  Lord  all 
ye  nations  :  praise  Him  all  ye  people.  For  His  merciful 
kindness  is  great  towards  us,  and  the  truth  of  the  Lord  en- 
dureth  forever.  Praise  ye  the  Lord  !  '  I  tell  you  there 


DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY  35 

was  joyful  clamour  enough  on  Dunbar's  swampy  field  to 
make  the  sky  ring  about  it." 

"•And  what  of  Israel  Swaffham  ?  He  did  his  part?  I 
know  that,"  said  Mrs.  Swarrham. 

"  He  led  his  own  troop  of  the  solid  fen  men  of  Cam 
bridgeshire.  I  saw  their  blue  banner  waving  wherever 
Tonbert  carried  it." 

"And  John?" 

"  Was  with  Lambert's  Yorkshiremen.  No  one  could 
resist  them.  Cymlin  rode  with  Cromwell.  Cymlin  was 
never  behindhand  yet." 

"  I  thank  God  for  my  men.  I  give  them  gladly  to  His 
Cause." 

Jane's  face  was  radiant,  and  tears  of  enthusiasm  filled 
her  eyes.  She  kissed  the  doctor  proudly,  and  ran  to  send  a 
messenger  to  de  Wick  with  the  tidings  of  Dunbar.  When 
she  returned  she  sat  down  by  his  side,  and  leaning  her  head 
against  his  arm,  began  to  question  him  : 

"  Dr.  John,  at  Marston  Moor  Leslie  fought  with  Crom 
well,  was  with  him  in  that  glorious  charge,  where  he  got 
the  name  of  Ironside.  Why  then  was  he  fighting  against 
Cromwell  at  Dunbar  ?  " 

"The  Scotch  have  had  many  minds  in  this  war,  Jane, 
just  now  they  are  determined  to  make  Presbyterianism  domi 
nant  in  England,  and  give  us  the  young  man,  Charles 
Stuart,  for  our  king.  And  Englishmen  will  not  have  either 
King  or  Presbytery.  As  far  as  that  <roes,  most  of  them 

O  J  J  O  ' 

would  rather  take  the  Hook  of  Common  Prayer  than  touch 
the  Scotch  Covenant.  And  as  for  the  young  man,  Charles 
Stuart,  he  is  false  as  hell  from  his  beard  to  his  boots  ;  false 
to  the  Scots,  false  to  the  English,  true  to  no  one." 

"  And  you,  Doctor,  how  do  you  feel  ?  " 

"  My   little   girl,   I    was    born   an    Independent.      I  have 


36  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

preached  and  suffered  for  liberty  of  conscience  ;  if  I  could 
deny  it,  I  would  deny  my  baptism.  I'll  do  neither — not 
while  my  name  is  John  Verity." 

Then  Jane  lifted  his  big  hand  and  kissed  it,  and  an 
swered,  "  I  thought  so  !  " 

"  And  if  England  wants  a  king,"  he  continued,  "  she 
can  make  one  ;  she  has  good  men  enough  to  choose  from." 

"  Some  say  that  Cromwell  will  make  himself  king." 

"  Some  people  know  no  more  of  Cromwell  than  a  mite 
knows  of  a  cheesemonger.  Nevertheless,  Cromwell  is  the 

O  ' 

Captain  of  England.  He  has  expressed  her  heart,  he  has 
done  her  will." 

"  Yet  he  is  not  without  faults,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham. 

"  I  don't  see  his  faults,  Martha.  I  see  only  him.  Great 
men  may  have  greater  faults  than  little  men  can  find  room  for ; 
and  Cromwell  is  beloved  of  God,  and  therefore  not  always 
explainable  to  men." 

"  He  has  dared  to  do  many  things  which  even  his  own 
party  do  not  approve." 

"Jane,  they  who  care  will  dare,  though  it  call  flame 
upon  them.  And  Cromwell  loves  to  lead  on  the  verge  of 
the  impossible,  for  it  is  then  he  can  invoke  the  aid  of  the 
Omnipotent." 

"  I  thought  the  Scotch  were  a  very  good,  religious  people." 

"  God  made  them  to  be  good,  but  He  knew  they  wouldn't 
be ;  so  He  also  made  Oliver  Cromwell." 

"  Are  you  going  further,  Doctor  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Swaff 
ham. 

"  No,  Martha.  I  mean  to  stay  here  until  the  General's 
messenger  joins  me.  He  sent  a  letter  to  London  by  the 
young  Lord  Cluny  Neville,  and  he  took  the  direct  road 
there,  so  we  parted  very  early  in  the  day  ;  but  he  calls  here 
for  me  on  his  return,  and  we  shall  go  back  together,  if  so 


DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY  37 

God  wills,  to  Edinburgh.  And  now,  Jane  Swaffham,  if 
thou  be  a  discreet  young  woman,  be  careful  of  the  young 
Lord  Cluny  Neville." 

"  Why  am  I  warned,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Because  he  is  one  of  those  men  who  take  women  cap 
tive  with  his  beauty — a  very  gracious  youth — a  great  lover 
of  the  General,  and  much  loved  by  him." 

"  I  never  heard  you  speak  of  Lord  Cluny  Neville  before." 

"  Because  I  did  not  know  him  before.  He  came  into  our 
camp  at  Musselburgh  and  offered  Cromwell  his  sword. 
The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  steadily  for  a  full  min 
ute,  and  in  that  minute  Cromwell  loved  the  young  man. 
He  saw  down  into  his  heart,  and  trusted  him.  Later,  he 
told  me  that  he  reminded  him  of  his  own  son,  Oliver,  who, 
as  you  know,  was  killed  in  battle  just  before  Naseby.  He 
has  set  his  heart  on  the  youth,  and  shows  him  great  favour. 
Some  are  jealous  of  the  boy,  and  make  a  grumble  that  he 
is  so  much  trusted." 

"  How  can  they  be  so  foolish  ?  I  wonder  the  General 
suffers  them.  Surely  he  can  have  some  one  to  love  near 
him,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham. 

"  Well,  Martha,  it  was  part  of  the  Apostle's  wisdom  to 
suffer  fools  gladly.  My  brother  Oliver  can  do  it ;  and 
there  is  nothing  wiser  or  more  difficult.  I  cannot  do  it. 
I  would  rough  them  !  rough  them  !  till  they  learnt  their 
folly,  and  left  it." 

"  If  this  young  Lord  is  taking  a  letter  to  Madame  Crom 
well,  then  why  did  not  Israel  write  to  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  unreasonableness  of  women  !  Can  a  man  write 
when  he  is  in  the  saddle  pursuing  the  enemy  ?  Israel  and 
Lambert  left  immediately  with  seven  regiments  for  Edin 
burgh.  He  sent  you  words  full  of  love  and  comfort ;  so  did 
your  sons  ;  what  would  you  have,  woman  ?  " 


38  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  The  General  wrote  to  the  Generaless." 

"  He  wrote  on  the  battle-field,  the  cries  of  the  wounded 
and  dying  in  his  ears,  all  horror  and  confusion  around  him. 
He  was  giving  orders  about  the  arms  and  the  artillery,  and 
about  the  movement  of  the  troops  as  he  wrote.  But  he 
knew  his  wife  and  children  were  waiting  in  sore  anxiety  for 
news — and  not  expecting  good  news — and  'twas  a  miracle 
how  he  did  write  at  all.  No  one  else  could  have  brought 
heart  and  hands  to  a  pen." 

"  I  think  Israel  might  have  written." 

u  I'll  be  bound  you  do  !     It's  woman-like." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  young  Charles  Stuart  ?  " 
asked  Jane.  "  It  is  said  he  has  taken  the  Covenant,  and  is 
turned  pious." 

"  I  think  worse  of  him  than  of  his  father.  He  is  an 
unprincipled  malignant — a  brazen  villain,  changing  and 
chopping  about  without  faith  in  God  or  man.  Englishmen 
will  have  none  of  him — and  the  Scots  can't  force  him  on 
them." 

"  Dunbar  settled  that ;  eh,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  that  Dunbar  has  done  the  job  for  all  the 
Presbyterian  tribe." 

"  But  oh,  the  suffering,  Doctor  !  "  said  Mrs.  Swaffham. 
"  Think  of  that." 

"  I  do,  Martha.  But  God's  will  be  done.  Let  them 
suffer.  In  spite  of  Cromwell's  entreaties  and  reasonings, 
they  had  taken  in  the  Stuart  to  force  him  upon  us  as  king 
— a  king  who  at  this  very  moment,  has  a  popish  army 
fighting  for  him  in  Ireland ;  who  has  Prince  Rupert — red 
with  the  blood  of  Englishmen — at  the  head  of  ships  stolen 
from  us  on  a  malignant  account ;  who  has  French  and  Irish 
ships  constantly  ravaging  our  coasts,  and  who  is  every 
day  issuing  commissions  to  raise  armies  in  the  very  heart  of 


DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY  39 

England  to  fight  Englishmen.  Treachery  like  this  con 
cerns  all  good  people.  Shall  such  a  matchless,  astonishing 
traitor  indeed  reign  over  us  ?  If  we  were  willing  for  it,  we 
should  be  worthy  of  ten  thousand  deaths — could  ten  thou 
sand  deaths  be  endured.  Now  let  me  go  to  rest.  I  am 
weary  and  sleepy,  and  have  won  the  right  to  sleep.  Give 
me  a  verse  to  sleep  on." 

Mrs.  S  waff  ham  answered  at  once,  as  if  she  had  been 
pondering  the  words,  "  '  He  lifted  up  his  face  to  heaven,  and 
praised  the  king  of  heaven.  And  said,  from  Thee  cometh 
victory,  from  Thee  cometh  wisdom,  and  Thine  is  the  glory, 
and  I  am  Thy  servant.'  ' 

"  Thank  you,  Martha  ;  you  have  spoken  well  for  me  ;  " 
and  with  a  smile  he  turned  his  beaming  eyes  on  Jane,  and 
she  said  confidently  — 

"  c  Strive  for  the  truth  unto  death,  and  the  Lord  shall  fight 
for  thee.'  ' 

"  Amen,  Jane  !  And  as  you  have  given  me  a  word  of 
Jesus,  the  son  of  Sirach,  so  will  I  give  you  both  one,  and 
you  may  ponder  it  in  your  hearts — '  Many  kings  have  sat 
down  upon  the  ground,  and  one  that  was  never  thought  of, 
hath  worn  the  crown.'  ' 

Then  Mrs.  SwafFham  put  her  hand  on  the  Doctor's  arm 
to  stay  him,  and  she  asked,  "  Do  you  remember  the  flag 
the  women  of  Huntingdon  and  Ely  gave  to  General  Crom 
well  just  before  Nasebv  ?  " 

"  I  do.  It  was  a  great  lion — the  lion  of  England  guard 
ing  the  Cross  of  England.  And  your  Israel  made  the 
speech.  I  am  not  likely  to  forget  it." 

"Then  you  also  remember  that  as  Israel  was  speaking, 
the  east  wind  rose,  and  stretched  wide-out  the  silk  folds,  so 
that  the  bio-  tawny  lion  watching  the  red  cross  was  blown 

O  J  O 

straight   above   the  General's  bare  head.      And  there  was  a 


40  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

murmur  of  wonder,  and  then  a  great  shout,  and  Israel 
pointing  to  the  flag  and  the  man  below  it,  cried  out  — 

"  Behold  your  Captain  !  Cromwell '  is  a  lion's  whelp — 
from  the  prey  thou  art  gone  up,  my  son — and  unto  Him 
shall  the  gathering  of  the  people  be.'  ' 

"  I  was  standing  with  Mrs.  Cromwell  and  the  girls," 
said  Jane;  "  and  at  the  shout  he  turned  to  them,  and  little 
Frances  ran  to  him  and  he  gave  the  flagstaff  into  your  hand, 
Doctor,  and  then  stooped  and  tied  the  child's  tippet.  Then 
Mary  and  I  went  closer,  and  to  us  he  was  just  the  same  Mr. 
Cromwell  that  I  knew  years  ago,  when  I  sat  on  his  knee, 
and  put  my  arms  round  his  neck,  and  he  kissed  me  as 
tenderly  as  if  I  was  one  of  his  own  little  girls.  But  for  all 
that,  something  of  power  and  majesty  clothed  him  like  a 
garment,  and  the  people  generally  feared  to  touch  the  hem 
of  it." 

"  A  lion's  whelp  !  "  he  said  proudly,  "  and  while  Eng 
land's  lion  has  such  whelps,  she  may  make  and  unmake 
kings  as  is  best  for  her."  Then  he  lit  his  candle  and  went 
stamping  down  the  flagged  passage  that  led  to  his  room. 
The  men  and  women  of  the  house  were  waiting  there 
for  a  word,  and  with  the  open  door  in  one  hand  and  the 
candle  in  the  other,  he  bade  them  good-morning  with  the 
notable  verse  Jane  had  given  him  for  his  own  comfort. 
And  as  he  did  so,  he  suddenly  remembered  that  these  words 
had  been  written  thousands  of  years  ago  for  his  encourage 
ment  ;  and  he  was  filled  with  wonder  at  the  thought,  and  he 
called  out,  "  Men  and  women,  all  of  you,  listen  once  again 
to  the  word  of  the  Lord  — 

"  '  Strive  for  the  truth  unto  death,  and  the  Lord  shall  fight 
for  you.'  " 

In  the  meantime  Mrs.  Swaffham  and  Jane  were  going 
slowly  up-stairs.  "  We  can  have  two  or  three  hours  sleep, 


DOCTOR  JOHN  VERITY  41 

Jane,"     said     Mrs.     SwafFham ;       and      Jane      answered, 
"  Yes  "  like  one  who  either  heard  not,  or  cared  not.      Her 
mother  understood.      She  said  softly,     "  He  was  thinking  of 
Cromwell  when  he  said  'one  that  was  never  thought  of'- 
about  the  crown  I  mean,  Jane  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother — -Oliver  Rex !  " 

"  It  might  be." 

"  It  ought  to  be.  He  has  conquered  England,  Ireland, 
Scotland  : — William  of  Normandy  had  not  a  third  of  his 
right." 

"  I  wish  I  could  forget  the  man  ;  for  I  must  lose  myself 
for  an  hour  or  two,  or  I  shall  be  good  for  nothing  when 
daylight  comes.  You,  too,  Jane,  go  and  sleep." 

She  said,  "  Yes,  mother."  But  sleep  was  a  thousand 
miles  away  from  Jane  SwarFham,, 


CHAPTER  III 

WOVEN    OF    LOVE    AND    GLORY 

"  Because  right  is  right,  to  follow  right 
Were  wisdom  in  the  scorn  of  consequence." 

"  See  that  thou  lovest  what  is  lovely." 

FOR  the  next  three  days  there  was  a  busy  time  at  Swaff- 
ham.  All  the  neighbours  were  summoned  to  hear  the  news, 
and  a  sermon  from  Dr.  Verity  ;  and  he  did  not  spare  the 
rod  in  the  way  of  his  calling.  There  were  some  wealthy 
young  men  present,  and  he  let  them  know  that  they  ought 
not  to  be  present ;  furthermore,  he  told  them  how  many 
miles  it  was  to  Duty  and  to  Scotland. 

"  This  is  not  a  time,"  he  said,  "  for  men  to  be  on  their 
farms  or  in  their  shops  getting  a  little  money.  '•Thou 
Shalt '  is  written  on  life  in  characters  just  as  terrible  as 
4  Thou  Shalt  Not'  It  is  not  enough  that  you  do  not  help 
the  enemy  ;  you  Shall  shut  your  shop,  you  Shall  leave  your 
oxen  untied  ;  you  Shall  take  your  musket,  and  never  once 
think  in  your  heart  '  Who  is  going  to  pay  me  for  this  busi 
ness  ? '  You  Shall  go  forth  to  serve  God  and  to  save  Eng 
land.  If  you,  Squire  Acton,  would  out,  and  you,  Fermor, 
and  you,  Calthorpe,  and  Charmington  and  Gamier,  you  would 
draw  men  after  you  ;  for  many  will  follow  if  the  candle  be 
once  lighted.  By  the  mouth  of  John  Verity,  a  servant  of 
the  Lord,  you  have  this  day  got  another  call.  Look  inward 
and  think  over  it.  You  say  you  love  God ;  you  say  you 
love  England  ;  what  is  love  worth  that  hath  a  tongue  but  no 

42 


WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY  43 

hands  ?  I  told  you  these  things  before,  and  if  you  did  not 
hear  me,  you  ought  to  have  heard  me.  Stand  up  and  face 
the  world,  and  say  plainly,  '  I  will  go,'  or  else,  '  I  will  not 
go.'  You  are  Englishmen,  you  are  obliged  to  own  that 
name,  and  in  the  freedom  or  slavery,  the  glory  or  disgrace 
of  England,  you  will  be  forced  to  share.  You  pray  for 
England.  Very  well,  that  is  your  duty  ;  but  it  is  serving 
God  very  much  at  your  ease.  God  wants  your  hands  as 
well  as  your  prayers." 

"  Against  whom  ?  "  asked  Gamier. 

"  Against  this  vounir  Charles  Stuart.      He  is  a  bolder  liar 

O  J  O 

than  his  father  ;  he  sticks  at  no  perjury  that  answers  his 
purpose.  If  you  let  him  put  shackles  on  you  again,  it  will 
be  a  deed  to  make  the  devil  blush — if  he  has  any  blushing 
faculty  in  him." 

Then  Acton  rose  and  said,  "  Dr.  Verity,  I  will  go,"  and 
Caithorpe  and  Eermor  followed,  and  the  Doctor  told  them 
to  meet  him  at  SwafFham  Market  Cross  the  following  day. 
"  And  I  will  say  this  thing  to  you,"  he  added,  "•  you  are  like 
to  have  the  good  fortune  of  the  man  hired  at  the  eleventh 
hour  ;  you  will  get  the  full  penny  for  the  last  stroke. 

"  And  now,"  he  continued,  "  I  have  a  few  words  for  you, 
women.  In  times  when  everything  seems  on  the  perish,  a 
deal  depends  on  you.  God  knows  there  are  troubles  enough 
for  us  all,  but  some  women  are  never  weary  of  hunting  for 
more.  It  is  a  poor  business.  Give  it  up.  You  know  that 
you  often  make  wretched  days  for  yourselves,  and  every  one 
you  come  across,  about  little  things  not  worth  minding.  I 

J  *  O  O 

have  heard  men  that  have  been  in  tropic  countries  say 
'  they  hardly  ever  saw  the  lions  and  serpents  they  feared,' 
but  that  the  flics  and  the  insects  and  the  heat  made  their 
lives  miserable  enough.  That  is  the  way  in  most  women's 
lives  i  they  hear  about  sieges  and  battles  and  awful  death, 


44  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

but  such  things  don't  often  come  to  their  door-step.  If  they 
do,  my  experience  is  that  women  behave  themselves  nobly  ; 
they  lift  up  their  hearts  and  meet  their  fate  like  men  and 
Christians. 

"  I  am  bound  to  say,  the  main  part  of  women's  troubles 
comes  from  little  things — from  very  little  things.  I've 
known  a  broken  pitcher,  or  a  slice  of  burned  bread,  or  a 
smoky  fire  do  the  black  business  for  a  whole  day.  No 
matter  what  comes,  women,  keep  a  cheerful  temper. 
Cheerfulness  is  the  very  coin  of  happiness.  The  devil 
loves  a  woman  with  a  snappy,  nagging  temper;  she  does 
lots  of  business  for  him,  without  his  helping  her.  I  don't 
think  any  of  you  here  will  take  his  arles-penny,  or  work 
for  his  '  well  done.'  Besides,  all  women  want  to  be  loved  ; 
but  I  can  tell  you,  every  one  feels  bitter  and  hard  to  those 
who  prevent  happiness.  It  is  easier  to  forgive  a  person  for 
doing  us  a  great  wrong  than  for  deliberately  spoiling  our 
comfort  because  some  trifling  thing  has  put  them  out.  A 
woman  who  will  do  that  is  a  selfish  creature,  and  she  ought 
to  live  by  herself." 

The  short  service  was  followed  by  an  excellent  dinner, 
and  the  richly  dressed  men  and  women,  full  of  eager  ques 
tions  and  innocent  mirth,  filled  the  Swaffham  parlours,  and 
made  a  fair  picture  of  hospitality  sobered  by  great  interests 
and  great  events.  Some  of  the  guests  lingered  for  two 
and  three  days,  but  Dr.  Verity  would  not  be  delayed.  The 
next  morning  he  enrolled  sixty  men,  and  then  he  was  re 
solved  to  ride  with  them  as  far  as  York.  "  And  if  Neville 
comes,  send  him  quickly  after  me,"  he  said.  "  He  thought 
he  might  be  four  days,  but  I  will  give  him  seven,  and  then 
wonder  if  he  keeps  tryst.  There  will  be  many  things  in 
London  to  delay  him." 

In  fact  Neville  was  so  long  delayed,  that  Mrs.  Swaffham 


WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY  45 

was  certain  he  had  been  sent  back  to  Scotland  at  once  on 
Mrs.  Cromwell's  order,  and  that  he  would  probably  be 
with  the  Lord  General  before  Dr.  Verity.  After  a  week 
or  more  had  passed,  all  expectation  of  his  visit  died  out, 
and  Jane  began  to  wonder  why  Matilda  had  not  been  to 
see  her. 

"  No  wonder  at  all,"  replied  Mrs.  Swaffham.  "  She 
showed  her  good  sense  in  keeping  away  until  the  victory  had 
been  talked  out.  You  would  have  been  on  the  verge  of 
quarreling  all  the  time  you  were  together,  and  the  kindness 
between  de  Wick  and  Swaffham  is  a  deal  older  than  the 
oldest  Stuart — it  is  generations  old — and  it  is  not  worth 
while  killing  it  for  either  Stuart  or  Cromwell." 

As  she  was  speaking  there  was  a  slight  stir  in  the  pas 
sage,  and  Jane  smiled  at  her  mother.  It  was  only  an  illus 
tration  of  the  old  law — they  had  been  talking  of  Matilda, 
because  she  was  approaching  them,  and  had  sent  her 
thoughts  in  advance.  She  came  in  without  her  usual  spirit. 
She  was  dressed  in  black  with  not  even  a  flower  to  relieve  its 
sombreness ;  she  had  been  weeping,  and  her  face  was  with 
out  colour  or  animation. 

Jane  went  to  meet  her  friend,  kissed  her,  and  removed 
her  hat.  Then  Matilda  went  to  Mrs.  Swaffham  and  laid 
her  head  against  her  breast,  and  said,  "  I  have  a  bad  head 
ache.  I  have  a  bad  heartache.  Oh,  dear  !  Oh,  dear  !  " 

"  It  was  bad  news  for  you,  dearie,"  said  the  motherly 
woman  ;  "  you  may  be  sure  I  thought  of  you." 

"  I  know  you  did.  It  was  terrible  news.  Father  has 
walked  the  floor  night  and  day  ever  since." 

"  I  hope  that  no  one  you  love  was  hurt  ?  " 

"  Stephen  is  well,  as  far  as  we  know.  He  sent  one  of 
his  troopers  with  the  news — George  Copping,  a  Hunting 
don  man.  I  dare  say  you  know  him  ?  " 


46  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  I  know  who  he  is." 

"  I  never  saw  my  father  so  distracted.  And  it  is  always 
'  give,  give,  give.'  George  took  away  our  last  silver,  and  I 
am  sure  nearly  all  our  money.  Father  has  sent  away  all 
the  men-servants,  but  such  as  are  necessary  to  work  the 
land  ;  four  of  them  went  back  with  George  to  the  army. 
Poor  old  Anice  !  She  has  one  son  with  Cromwell,  and  the 
other  has  now  gone  to  the  King.  As  she  cooks,  her  tears 
fall.  I  have  had  to  send  Delia  away — only  Anice  and 
Audrey  are  left  to  care  for  us,  and  father  says  they  are  more 
than  he  can  afford.  Though  his  wound  has  reopened 
since  he  heard  of  the  Dunbar  disaster,  he  would  have  gone 
north  himself  with  George  and  the  men " 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Matilda,  do  not  suffer  him  to  do  that. 
You  know  much  depends  upon  his  keeping  quiet  at  de 
Wick." 

"  You  need  not  remind  me  of  that,  Jane.  I  know  that 
we  are  only  Cromwell's  tenants,  and  subject  to  his  will. 
We  may  be  sent  away  at  any  hour,  if  General  Cromwell 
says  so." 

"  Not  without  proper  process  of  law,  Matilda.  Crom 
well  is  not  the  law." 

"  The  King  is  my  father's  friend,  yet  if  he  move  an  inch 
for  the  King's  help,  he  will  lose  everything." 

"  And  he  will  break  his  word,  which  is  the  greatest  loss 

*  c1 

of   all,"  said  Jane.     "  I   know,  dear,  you  would  not  wish 
him  to  do  that." 

"  Is  a  promise  given  under  stress  to  be  kept,  Jane  ?  I 
doubt  it." 

"  It  is  a  stress  bound  all  round  by  kindness.  I  heard  my 
father  speak  of  it.  When  the  de  Wick  estate  was  under 
the  Parliament's  consideration,  Cromwell  was  much  dis 
turbed.  Your  two  brothers  had  just  been  killed  in  battle, 


WOVKN  OF  LOVK  AND  GLORY  47 

your  mother  was  very  ill,  your  father  suffering  from  a  se 
vere  wound,  and  it  was  the  Lord  General  who  wrote  your 
father  a  letter  which  should  be  graven  upon  the  hearts  of 
every  de  Wick.  In  it  he  promised  that  for  their  old  friend 
ship's  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  fight  over  the  Bedford 
Level — in  which  fight  de  Wick  stood  boldly  with  Cromwell 
— that  he  would  stand  between  de  Wick  and  all  bills  of  for 
feiture.  He  said  also  that  he  would  not  hold  your  father 
accountable  for  the  acts  of  his  son  Stephen,  if  he  person 
ally  restrained  himself  from  all  designs  and  acts  injurious 
to  the  Commonwealth.  My  father  said  it  was  such  a  noble 
letter  as  one  brother  might  have  written  to  another." 

u  I  have  heard  enough  of  it.  I  do  not  think  much  of  a 
kindness  cribbed  and  tethered  by  this  and  that  condition. 
It  has  made  my  father  nothing  but  Cromwell's  servant.  I 
am  ashamed  of  it." 

u  Dr.  Verity  has  been  here,"  said  Jane,  trying  to  change 
the  subject. 

"  Pray,  who  does  not  know  that  ?  He  never  comes  but 
he  takes  some  one  away  for  Cromwell.  I  thought  1  could 
have  counted  on  Acton  and  Fermor  remaining  at  home." 

"  He  thinks  the  war  nearly  over,  Matilda." 

u  It  is  not.  Even  if  King  Charles  were  killed,  there 
would  then  be  King  James  to  fight.  The  war  may  last  for 
a  century.  And  if  this  is  the  world,  I  would  I  were  out  of 
it.  Dear,  shall  I  ever  be  happy  again  ?  " 

"  Yes  indeed,  Matilda.  You  will  yet  be  very  happy,  and 
forget  this  sorrowful  time." 

u  Not  while  my  life  lasts,  Jane.  Trust  me,  I  shall  never 
forget  it." 

u  Let  us  stop  talking  of  it.  At  any  rate  we  can  do  that. 
Tell  me  about  your  lovers,  Matilda.  How  many  have  you 
at  this  present  ?  " 


48  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  The  war  has  taken  them  all  but  young  Godschall,  and 
he  and  I  are  no  longer  friends.  When  he  was  at  de  Wick 
last,  we  said  so  much  we  have  not  spoken  a  word  since." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  it." 

"  'Tis  a  common  occurrence,  many  women  endure  it." 

"  And  what  has  come  to  George  St.  Amand  ?  He  was 
once  very  much  your  servant." 

"  Poor  George  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  poor  George  '  ?  " 

"  Because  we  are  told  that  all  titles  are  to  be  cancelled 
and  abolished,  and  George  St.  Amand  is  dumb  unless  he  can 
salt  every  sentence  he  utters  with  what  '  my  Lord,  my 
father'  thinks  or  says." 

"  And  there  was  also  among  your  servants,  one  Philip 
Heneage." 

"  Philip  has  gone  to  the  enemy.  I  do  not  know,  and  I 
will  not  know,  and  I  scorn  to  know,  anything  more  about 
him.  He  should  be  hanged,  and  cheap  at  that." 

Before  Jane  could  answer,  Mrs.  Swaffham,  who  had 
left  the  room,  returned  to  it.  She  had  a  hot  wine  posset  in 
her  hand  and  a  fresh  Queen's  cake.  "  Come,  my  dearie, 
and  eat  and  drink,"  she  said.  "  Keep  your  stomach  in  a 
good  temper,  and  I'll  be  bound  it  will  help  you  to  bear 
heart-trouble,  of  all  kinds,  wonderfully." 

Matilda  took  the  posset  and  cake  gratefully,  and  said, 
"  I  heard  Dr.  Verity  gave  the  women  who  had  come  to 
meet  him  one  of  his  little  rages.  I  hope  they  liked  it." 

"  He  only  told  us  the  truth,"  said  Jane.  "  Yes,  we  liked 
it." 

"  Well,"  said  Matilda,  "  I  am  not  one  that  wants  all 
England  for  myself,  but  I  think  I  could  spare  Dr.  John 
Verity,  and  feel  the  better  of  it.  May  the  Scots  make 
much  of  him  !  " 


WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY          49 

"  He  is  one  of  the  best  of  men,  Matilda." 

"  Yes,  to  you,  whom  he  counts  as  one  of  the  covenanted. 
To  me,  he  is  very  hard,  and  I  cannot  forget  that  he  was 
chief  in  silencing  Father  Sacy." 

"  A  few  years  ago  Father  Sacy  got  Dr.  Verity  imprisoned 
for  preaching  the  Word  of  God.  He  was  two  years  in  a 
dreadful  cell,  and  his  wife  and  child  died  while " 

"  And  pray  what  does  the  Word  of  God  say  about  do- 
inii  good  to  those  who  injure  you  ?  Dear  jane,  never  heed 
my  words.  1  have  a  privilege  to  be  ill-natured — the  privi 
lege  of  the  losing  and  the  sorrowful." 

Thus,  in  spite  of  all  Jane's  efforts,  they  still  found  them 
selves  on  dangerous  or  debatable  ground.  All  topics  were 
roads  leading  thither,  and  they  finally  abandoned  every  kind 
of  tactic  and  spoke  as  their  hearts  prompted  them.  Then, 
though  some  hard  things  were  said,  many  very  kind  things 
were  also  said,  and  Matilda  rose  to  go  home  comforted  and 
helped — for,  after  all,  the  tongue  is  servant  to  the  heart.  As 
she  was  tying  her  hat,  a  maid  called  Mrs.  SwafFham  from 
the  room,  and  Matilda  lingered,  waiting  for  her  return. 
She  stood  with  Jane  at  the  window.  Their  hands  were 
clasped  in  each  other's,  but  they  were  silent,  and  both  girls 
appeared  to  be  looking  at  the  beds  full  of  late  flowers — 
beautiful,  pensive  flowers,  having  a  positive  air  of  melan 
choly,  as  if  they  felt  the  sadness  of  the  autumn  sunset. 
But  it  was  not  likely  that  either  of  them  saw  the  flowers  ; 
certainly,  iMatilda's  hrst  words  gave  no  intimation  that  she 
did. 

"Heigh-ho!"  she  said,  "why  should  we  worry  ?  Ev 
erything  comes  round  in  time  to  its  proper  place,  and  then 
it  will  be,  as  old  Anice  expects— the  hooks  will  find  the 
eyes  that  fit  them." 

As  she  spoke,  Mrs.  SwafFham  hastily  entered  the  room, 


50  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

and  with  her  was  Lord  Cluny  Neville.  Both  girls  turned 
from  the  window  and  caught  his  eyes  at  the  same  moment. 
He  was,  as  Dr.  Verity  said,  a  man  destined  to  captivate, 
not  only  by  his  noble  bearing  and  handsome  face,  but 
also  by  such  an  indescribable  charm  of  manner  as  opened 
the  door  of  every  heart  to  him.  He  carried  his  morion 
in  his  left  hand,  and  in  his  dress  of  dark  cloth  and  bright 
steel  looked  the  very  picture  of  a  Puritan  pala'din.  Bow 
ing  to  both  girls,  he  presented  Jane  with  a  letter  from 
her  friend  Mary  Cromwell,  and  also  with  a  small  parcel 
which  contained  some  beautiful  ribbons.  The  pretty  gift 
made  a  pleasant  introduction  to  a  conversation  full  of  gay 
inquiries  and  interesting  items  of  social  information.  Ma 
tilda  took  little  part  in  it.  She  watched  the  young  soldier 
with  eyes  full  of  interest,  and  did  not  refuse  his  escort  to 
her  carriage ;  but  as  she  departed,  she  gave  Jane  one  look 
which  left  her  with  an  unhappy  question  in  her  heart,  not 
only  for  that  night,  but  to  be  recalled  long  after  as  premon 
itory  and  prophetic. 

During  the  preparations  for  the  evening  meal,  and  while 
Neville  was  in  his  chamber  removing  his  armour  and  re 
freshing  his  clothing,  Jane  also  found  time  to  put  on  a 
pretty  evening  gown.  It  was  of  pale  brown  lutestring,  a 
little  lighter  and  brighter  in  colour  than  her  own  hair,  and 
with  its  stomacher  and  collar  of  white  lace  it  added  greatly 
to  the  beauty  of  her  appearance.  Something  had  happened 
to  Jane ;  she  was  in  a  delicious  anticipation,  and  she 
could  not  keep  the  handsome  stranger  out  of  her  considera 
tion.  There  was  a  brilliant  light  in  her  eyes,  and  a  brilliant 
colour  on  her  cheeks,  and  a  happy  smile  on  her  lovely  bow- 
shaped  mouth. 

When  she  heard  Neville's  steady,  swift  step  coming 
towards  her,  she  trembled.  Why  ?  She  did  not  ask  her- 


WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY  5I 

self,  and  her  soul  did  not  tell  her.  It  indeed  warned  her, 
either  of  joy  or  of  sorrow,  for  surely  its  tremor  intimated 
that  the  newcomer  was  to  be  no  mere  visitor  of  passage, 
no  neutral  guest ;  that  perhaps,  indeed,  he  might  have 
entered  her  home  as  a  fate,  or  at  least  as  a  messenger  of 
destiny.  Eor  who  can  tell,  when  a  stranger  walks  into 
any  life,  what  his  message  may  be  ?  Bringers  of  great 
tragedies  have  crossed  thresholds  with  a  smile,  and  many 
an  unknown  enemy  has  been  bidden  to  the  hearth  with  a 
welcome. 

Jane  was  in  no  mood  for  such  reflections.  This  young 
soldier,  bearing  a  gift  in  his  hand,  had  bespoke  for  himself  at 
his  lirst  glance  and  word  the  girl's  favour.  She  knew  noth 
ing  of  love,  and  Dr.  Verity's  warning  had  not  made  her 
afraid  of  it.  Indeed,  there  was  in  her  heart  a  pleasant  dar 
ing,  the  touch  of  unseen  danger  was  exhilarating  ;  she  felt 
that  she  was  on  that  kind  of  dangerous  ground  which  calls 
out  all  a  woman's  watchfulness  and  all  her  weapons.  One 
of  the  latter  was  the  possibility  of  captivating,  instead  of 
being  captivated.  It  was  a  natural  instinct,  never  felt  be 
fore,  but  which  sprang,  full-grown,  from  Jane's  heart  as 
soon  as  suggested.  The  desire  for  conquest !  Who  has 
not  felt  its  pushing,  irresistible  impulse  ?  She  accused  her 
self  of  having  given  away  to  Neville's  influence  without 
any  effort  to  resist  it.  That  thought  in  itself  arrested  her 
sympathies.  Why  did  she  do  it  ?  Might  she  not  just  as 
well  have  brought  his  right  to  question  ?  Would  she  have 
succumbed  so  readily  to  the  influence  of  some  beautiful 
woman  ?  This  self-examination  made  her  blush  and  utter 
an  exclamation  of  chagrin. 

Neville  entered  gayly  in  the  midst  of  it.  Me  had  re 
moved  his  steel  corselet,  and  the  pliant  dark  cloth  in  which 
he  was  dressed  travc  additional  trrace  to  his  figure  and  move- 


52  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

ments.  A  falling  band  of  Flemish  lace  was  round  his 
throat,  and  his  fine  linen  showed  beneath  the  loose  sleeves 
of  his  coat  in  a  band  of  the  same  material.  His  breeches 
had  a  bow  of  ribbon  at  the  knee,  and  his  low  shoes  of  mo 
rocco  leather  a  rosette  of  the  same.  It  was  now  evident 
that  his  hair  was  very  black,  and  that  his  eyebrows  made 
dark,  bold  curves  above  his  sunbrowned  cheeks  and  flashing 
black  eyes — eyes,  that  in  the  enthusiasm  of  feeling  or 
speaking  became  living  furnaces  filled  with  flame.  A  solar 
man,  sensitive,  radiating ;  one  who  would  move  both  men 
and  women,  whether  they  would  or  not. 

It  was  a  wonderful  evening  to  both  Jane  and  Mrs.  Swaft- 
ham.  Neville  told  over  again  the  story  of  Dunbar,  and 
told  it  in  a  picturesque  way  that  would  have  been  impossi 
ble  to  Dr.  Verity.  Taking  whatever  he  could  find  that  was 
suitable,  he  built  for  them  the  Lammermuir  hills,  on  which 
the  Scots'  army  lay  ;  described  the  swamp  at  their  base ;  the 
dark  stream — forty  feet  deep — that  ran  through  it,  and  the 
narrow  strip  by  the  wild  North  Sea,  where  Cromwell's 
army  stood  at  bay.  He  made  them  feel  the  damp  and  chill 
of  the  gray,  desolate  place  ;  he  made  them  see  the  men 
standing  at  arms  all  through  the  misty  night;  he  made  them 
hear  the  solemn  tones  of  prayer  breaking  the  silence,  and 
then  they  understood  how  the  great  Cromwell,  moving  from 
group  to  group,  saturated  and  inspired  every  man  with  the 
energy  of  his  own  faith  and  courage.  Then  he  showed 
them  the  mighty  onslaught,  and  the  ever-conquering  Gen 
eral  leading  it !  Through  Neville,  they  heard  his  voice 
flinging  the  battle-cry  of  the  Puritan  host  in  the  very  teeth 
of  the  enemy.  They  saw  him,  when  the  foe  fled,  leaning 
upon  his  bloody  sword,  pouring  out  a  triumphal  Psalm 
of  gratitude  so  strenuously  and  so  melodiously,  that 
men  forgot  to  pursue,  that  they  might  sing.  It  was  a 


WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY  53 

magnificent  drama,  though  there  was  only  one  actor  to 
present  it. 

And  when  the  recital  was  over  and  they  sat  silent,  being 
too  much  moved  to  find  words  for  their  feeling,  he  dropped 
his  voice  and  said,  "  There  is  something  else.  I  should  like 
to  tell  you  it,  yet  I  fear  that  you  will  not  believe  me.  'Twas 
a  strange  thing,  and  beyond  nature." 

"  Tell  us,"  said  Jane,  almost  in  a  whisper.  "  We  should 
like  to  hear,  should  we  not,  mother  ?  " 

Mrs.  SwafFham  bowed  her  head,  and  the  young  man  con 
tinued  :  "  It  was  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  preceding  the 
battle.  The  Captain-General  had  just  come  back  from 
Dunbar,  and  his  face  was  full  of  satisfaction.  There  was 
even  then  on  it  the  light  and  assurance  of  victory,  and  he 
called  the  men  round  him  and  pointed  out  the  false  step  the 
Scots  were  taking.  '  The  Lord  hath  delivered  them  into 
our  hands  ! '  he  said.  And  as  he  spoke,  the  fog  was  driven 
before  the  wind  and  the  rain  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  it  he 
mounted  his  horse  to  ride  about  the  field.  And  as  he  stood 
a  moment,  looking  towards  the  ships  and  the  sea,  this  man, 
this  Cromwell,  grew,  and  grew,  and  grew,  until  in  the  sight 
of  all  of  us,  he  was  a  gigantic  soldier  towering  over  the 
army  and  the  plain.  I  speak  the  truth.  I  see  yet  that  pro 
digious,  wraithlike  figure,  with  its  solemn  face  bathed  in 
the  storms  of  battle.  And  not  I  alone  saw  this  vision, 
many  others  saw  it  also  -,  and  we  watched  it  with  awe  and 
amazement,  until  it  blended  with  the  drifting  fogs  and  dis 
appeared." 

"  Indeed,  I  doubt  it  not,"  said  Mrs.  SwafFham.  "  I  have 
seen,  I  have  heard,  things  in  SwafFham  that  could  only  be 
seen  and  heard  by  the  spiritual  senses." 

Jane  did  not  speak  ;  she  glanced  at  the  young  man,  won 
dering  at  his  rapt  face,  its  solemn  pallor  and  mystic  exalta- 


54  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

tion,  and  feeling  his  voice  vibrate  through  all  her  senses, 
though  at  the  last  he  had  spoken  half-audibly,  as  people  do 
in  extremes  of  life  or  feeling. 

It  is  in  moments  such  as  these,  that  Love  grows  as  Ne 
ville  saw  the  wraith  of  Cromwell  grow — even  in  a  mo 
ment's  gaze.  Jane  forgot  her  intention  of  captivating,  and 
yet  none  the  less  she  accomplished  her  purpose.  Her  sen 
sitive  face,  its  sweet  freshness  and  clear  candour,  charmed 
by  its  mere  responsiveness ;  and  not  accustomed  to  resist 
or  to  control  his  feelings,  Neville  showed  plainly  the  impres 
sion  he  had  received.  For  when  they  parted  for  the  night 
he  held  her  hand  with  a  gentle  pressure,  and  quick  glanc 
ing,  sweetly  smiling,  he  flashed  into  her  eyes  admiration  and 
interest  not  to  be  misunderstood. 

And  Jane's  heart  was  a  crystal  rock,  only  waiting  the 
touch  of  a  wand.  Had  she  felt  the  mystic  contact  ?  Her 
fine  eyes  were  dropped,  but  there  was  a  faint,  bewitching 
smile  around  her  lovely  mouth,  and  there  was  something 
bewildering  and  something  bewildered  in  her  very  silence 
and  simplicity. 

Neville  was  charmed.  His  heart  was  so  light,  so  happy, 
that  he  heard  it  singing  as  he  held  the  little  maiden's  hand. 
He  went  into  his  chamber  with  the  light  step  of  one  to 
whom  some  great  joy  has  come,  and,  full  of  its  vague  an 
ticipation,  sat  down  a  moment  to  realise  what  had  happened. 
"  I  have  caught  love  from  her  in  a  glance,"  he  said. 
"  What  a  dainty  little  creature  !  What  a  little  darling  she 
is  !  Shy  and  quiet  as  a  bird,  and  yet  I'll  warrant  me  she 
hath  wit  and  courage  to  furnish  six  feet  of  flesh  and  blood, 
instead  of  four.  Is  she  fair  ?  Is  she  handsome  ?  I  forgot 
to  look  with  certainty.  She  hath  the  finest  eyes  I  ever  saw 
my  own  in — a  face  like  a  wild  flower — a  small  hand,  I  saw 
that  in  particular — and  feet  like  the  maiden  in  the  fairy  tale 


WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY  55 

. — exquisite  feet,  prettily  shod.  Neat  and  sweet  and  full  of 
soul  !  Little  Jane  !  Little  darling  !  A  man  were  happy 
enough  if  he  won  your  love.  And  what  a  rich  heart  she 
must  have  !  She  has  made  Love  grow  in  me.  She  has 
created  it  from  her  own  store." 

Then  he  moved  his  chair  to  the  hearth  and  looked  around. 
It  was  a  large  room,  full  of:  the  wavering  shadows  of  the 
blazing  logs  and  the  long  taper.  "  What  an  ancient  place  !  " 
he  sighed.  "  'Tis  a  bed  fine  enough  and  big  enough  for  a 
monarch.  Generations  have  slept  on  it.  Those  pillows 
must  be  full  of  dreams.  If  all  the  souls  that  have  slept  in 
this  room  were  to  be  gathered  together,  how  great  a  com 
pany  they  would  be  !  If  I  could  see  them,  I  would  enlist 
all  for  my  hero — they  should  swear  to  be  Cromwell's  men  ! 
In  solemn  faith  the  room  is  full  of  presence."  Then  he 
rose,  turned  his  face  bravely  to  the  shadowy  place,  and 
bending  his  head  said,  "  Wraiths  of  the  dead,  I  salute  you. 
Suffer  me  to  sleep  in  peace  in  your  company." 

He  did  not  sit  down  again,  but  having  cast  over  himself 
the  shield  and  balm  of  prayer,  he  soon  fell  into  the  sound 
sleep  of  weary  youth.  The  sun  was  high  when  he  awoke, 
and  he  was  ashamed  of  his  apparent  indolence  and  would 
scarce  delay  long  enough  to  eat  a  hasty  breakfast.  Then 
his  horse  was  waiting,  and  he  stood  at  the  threshold 
with  Mrs.  Swaffham's  hand  in  his.  There  were  tears 
in  her  eyes  as  she  blessed  him  and  bade  him  "  God 
speed,"  and  gave  him  her  last  messages  to  her  husband 
and  sons. 

"  Fare  you  well,"  he  answered,  and  "  God  be  with  you  ! 
I  hope  to  be  sent  this  way  again,  and  that  soon.  Will  you 
give  me  welcome,  madame  ?  " 

"  You  will  be  welcome  as  sunshine,"  answered  Mrs. 
SwafFham. 


56  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Then  he  looked  at  Jane,  and  she  said,  "  God  speed  you 
on  your  journey.  You  have  words  for  my  father  and 
brothers,  but  if  you  find  the  right  time,  say  also  to  General 
Cromwell  that  Jane  Swaffham  remembers  him  constantly 
in  her  prayers,  and  give  him  these  words  for  his  strength 
and  comfort — '  They  shall  be  able  to  do  nothing  against  thee, 
saith  the  Lord  :  My  hands  shall  cover  thee.'  ' 

He  bowed  his  head,  and  then  looked  steadily  at  her ;  and 
in  that  momentary  communion  realised  that  he  had  lost 
himself,  and  found  himself  again,  in  the  being  of  another— 
that  he  had  come  in  contact  with  something  and  found  his 
spirit  had  touched  a  kindred  spirit.  Yet  he  said  only, 
"  Good-bye,  till  we  meet  again." 

As  he  mounted,  Mrs.  Swaffham  asked  him  if  he  went  by 
York,  and  he  answered,  "  Yes,  I  know  perfectly  that  road, 
and  I  must  not  miss  my  way,  for  I  am  a  laggard  already." 

"  That  is  right,"  she  said.  "  The  way  that  is  best  tc  go 
is  the  way  that  best  you  know." 

He  did  not  hear  the  advice,  for  the  moment  his  horse  felt 
the  foot  in  the  stirrup  he  was  off,  and  hard  to  hold  with  bit 
and  bridle.  They  watched  him  down  the  avenue,  the  sun 
glinting  on  his  steel  armour  and  morion  and  the  wind  toss 
ing  behind  his  left  shoulder  the  colours  of  the  Common 
wealth. 

When  he  was  quite  out  of  sight,  they  turned  into  the 
house  with  a  sigh,  and  Mrs.  Swaffham  said,  "Now,  I  must 
have  the  house  put  in  order.  If. I  were  you,  Jane,  I  would 
go  to  de  Wick  this  afternoon.  Matilda  is  full  of  trouble. 
I  cannot  feel  indifferent  to  her." 

"  She  says  the  kingfishers  have  left  de  Wick  waters. 
They  have  bred  there  for  centuries,  and  the  Earl  is  much 
distressed  at  their  departure." 

"  No  wonder.     Many  people  think  they  bring  good  for- 


WOVEN  OF  LOVE  AND  GLORY  57 

tune.  I  would  not  say  different.  There  are  more  messen 
gers  of  good  and  evil  than  we  know  of.  If  I  get  things  in 
order,  I  will  also  go  to  de  Wick.  Reginald  de  Wick  and 
I  were  friends  when  we  could  hardly  say  the  word — that 
was  in  King  James'  reign.  Dear  me  !  How  the  time  flies  !  " 

Then  Jane  went  to  her  room  and  began  to  fold  away  the 
prettv  things  she  had  worn  the  previous  night.  She 
smoothed  every  crease  in  her  silk  gown,  and  fingered  the 
lace  orderly,  and  folded  away  her  stockings  of  clocked  silk 
and  her  bronzed  morocco  shoes  with  their  shining  silver 
buckles.  And  as  she  did  so,  her  heart  sat  so  lightly  on  its 
temporal  perch  that  she  was  singing  and  did  not  know  it 
until  her  mother  opened  the  door,  and  like  one  astonished, 
asked,  "  What  are  you  singing,  Jane  ?  " 

"•Why,  mother!  Nothing  but  some  verses  by  good 
George  Wither." 

Then  the  mother  shut  the  door  again.  If  George 
Wither  had  written  what  Jane  was  singing,  she  was  sure 
the  v/ords  were  wise  and  profitable ;  for  Wither  was  the 
poet  of  the  Puritans,  and  his  "  Hallelujah  "  all  to  the 
families  of  the  Commonwealth,  that  the  "  Christian  Year" 
has  been  to  our  own  times.  So  Jane  finished  without 
further  interruption,  but  with  rather  less  spirit  her  song — 
"  For  Lovers  being  constrained  to  be  absent  from  each  other." 

"  Dearest  fret  not,  sigh  not  so, 
For  it  is  not  time  nor  place 
That  can  much  divide  us  two  ; 
Though  it  part  us  for  a  space." 

And  she  did  not  know  that,  at  the  very  same  moment, 
Cluny  Neville  was  solacing  the  loneliness  of  his  ride  by  the 
same  writer's  "Hymn  for  Victory"  giving  to  its  Hebraic 
fervour  a  melodious  vigour  of  interpretation  admirably  em- 


58  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

phasised  by  the  Gregorian  simplicity  of  the  tune  to  which 


was  suno; 


"  It  was  alone  Thy  Providence, 

Which  made  us  masters  of  the  field. 
Thou  art  our  castle  of  defense, 

Our  fort,  our  bulwark,  and  our  shield. 
And  had  not  Thou  our  Captain  been, 

To  lead  us  on  and  off  again  ; 
This  happy  day,  we  had  not  seen, 

But  in  the  bed  of  death  had  lain." 


CHAPTER  IV 

SO    SWEET    A    DREAM 

"  To  judge  events,  or  actions,  without  connecting  them  with 
their  causes,  is  manifestly  unjust  and  untruthful.  Such  judgments 
may  make  inflexible  justice  to  appear  tyranny  ;  righteous  retribu 
tion  to  wear  the  guise  of  cruelty  ;  and  virtue  itself  to  have  the  like 
ness  of  vice." 

"  All  love  is  sweet, 

Given   or  returned.      Common  as  light  is  love, 
And  its  familiar  voice  wearies  not  ever." 

PEACH  was  now  confidently  predicted,  but  hope  outruns 
events,  and  the  winter  slowly  settled  down  over  the  level 
dreariness  of  the  land  without  any  apparent  change  in  the 
national  situation.  People  grew  tired  of  expecting,  and 
turned  almost  sullenly  to  the  daily  duties  of  life.  For  in 
the  North,  the  winter  weather  would  certainly  bring  the 
winter  truce,  and  they  must  bear  the  inaction  and  suspense 
as  well  as  they  were  able. 

In  de  Wick,  the  situation  was  pitiably  folorn  and  desolate. 
The  great  trees  around  it  stood  with  dripping  leaves  motion 
less  in  the  thick  fog ;  the  long  grasses  lay  withered  and 
brown  ;  the  livid  waters  of  the  lake  were  no  longer  enliv 
ened  by  the  scream  of  the  kingfishers,  and  about  the  house 
were  silence  and  desolation.  Aiatilda  would  gladly  have 
escaped  its  depressing  atmosphere  for  a  little  while  every 
day,  but  she  could  not,  for  the  roads  leading  from  it  were 
almost  quagmires  unless  steadied  by  frost,  and  it  was  only 
rarely  on  such  occasions  that  the  horses  could  be  spared  to 

59 


60  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

take  her  as  far  as  Swaffham.  These  visits  were  eagerly 
expected  by  both  girls,  and  yet  were  usually  regretted  ;  for 
Matilda  could  not  help  saying  many  hard  things,  and  Jane 
could  not  conscientiously  quite  pass  them  over.  Much  was 
excused  for  the  sake  of  her  sorrow  and  loss  and  visible 
poverty,  but  even  these  excuses  had  limitations  and  every 
interview  brought  with  it  many  sharp  words  not  quite 
washed  out  by  reconciling  tears  and  promised  forgetfulness. 
Even  the  atmosphere  of  SwafFham,  though  grateful  and 
cheering,  was  exasperating  to  the  poor  royalist  lady.  There 
was  such  cheerfulness  in  its  comfortable  rooms,  such  plenty 
of  all  the  necessaries  of  life,  such  busy  service  of  men  and 
maids,  such  active,  kindly  hospitality  to  herself,  and  such 
pleasant  companionship  betwee*  Jane  and  her  mother,  that 
Matilda  could  not  help  a  little  envious  contrasting,  a  little 
backward  thought  of  the  days  when  her  own  home  had 
been  the  light  of  its  neighbourhood,  and  her  father  and 
mother  had  entertained  in  splendid  fashion  nobles  and 
beauties  and  famous  men  whose  names  were  familiar  as 
household  words  to  all  England.  In  those  happy  days  the 
rooms  had  shone  with  a  hundred  lights  >  her  handsome 

o          7 

mother  had  moved  as  a  queen  in  them,  and  her  father  and 
brothers  had  made  the  place  joyful  with  all  the  masculine 
stir  of  hunting  and  hawking,  the  racket  of  balls  in  the 
bowling-alley  and  tennis  court,  the  excitement  of  the  race, 
the  laughter  and  love-making  of  the  ballroom.  All  these, 
and  far  sweeter  and  dearer  things,  had  been  cast  into  the 
gulf  of  civil  war,  and  Matilda  spent  her  days  counting  the 
cost  of  such  sacrifices — a  terrible  sum  total  which  she  al 
ways  reckoned  with  one  reflection  :  "  if  only  mother  had 
been  left !  I  could  bear  all  the  rest." 

One  day,  near  Christmas,  the  roads  were  hard  and  clean 
and  the  sky  blue  above  them,  and  in  spite  of  the  cold  Ma- 


SO   SWEET  A  DREAM  61 

tilda  resolved  to  walk  over  to  Swaffham.  She  had  an 
abundance  of  rich  clothing,  but  as  she  went  through  it,  she 
saw  that  its  very  splendour  was  only  another  sign  of  her 
poverty,  for  neither  her  own  nor  her  mother's  wardrobe 
contained  the  plain,  scant  skirt  suitable  for  walking  ; — plenty 
of  carriage  robes,  and  dinner  and  dancing  dresses  ;  plenty 
of  gold  and  silver  tissues,  and  satin  and  velvet,  and  rich 
lace,  but  she  would  have  given  the  richest  of  the  costumes 
for  a  short  cloth  skirt  and  coat,  such  as  Jane  trod  the  miry 
ways  in  with  comfort  and  cleanliness.  However,  she  made 
the  wisest  choice  possible,  and  when  she  stood  before  her 
father  drawing  on  her  white  gloves  and  saying  all  manner 
of  cheerful  words,  no  one  could  have  desired  any  change 
in  her  apparel.  She  held  the  train  of  her  black  velvet  skirt 
over  her  left  arm  ;  her  shoulders  were  covered  with  a  tippet 
of  minever,  her  large  hat  of  black  beaver  was  drooping 
with  plumes.  In  her  cheeks  there  was  a  faint  rose  colour, 
and  her  large  brown  eyes  were  full  of  feeling.  She  looked 
like  some  lovely  princess  exiled  from  her  state  and  condi 
tion,  but  retaining,  nevertheless,  all  the  personal  insignia  of 
her  royal  birth. 

As  she  left  her  father  she  kissed  him  affectionately,  and 
then  curtseyed  to  the  Chaplain,  who  did  not  notice  her  at 
tention,  being  happily  and  profitably  lost  in  a  volume  by 
good  Dr.  Thomas  Fuller,  who  was  that  moment  saying  to 
him,  in  one  of  his  garrison  sermons,  "  A  Commonwealth 
and  a  King  are  no  more  contrary  than  the  trunk  of  a  tree 
and  the  top  branch  thereof;  there  is  a  republic  included 
in  every  monarchy." 

Matilda  walked  rapidly,  and  the  clear  cold  air  blew  hope 
and  cheerfulness  into  her  heart.  u  Perhaps,  after  all,  the 
King  might  come  to  his  own — Cromwell  had  not  reaped 
all  that  was  anticipated  from  Dunbar  victory,  he  was  still 


62  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

obliged  to  remain  in  Scotland  and  watch  the  King  ;  and  if 
the  King's  position  needed  this  watch,  there  must  still  be 
strength  and  hope  in  it.  I  will  take  what  the  Swaffhams 
say  with  a  large  allowance,"  she  thought;  and  then  she 
suddenly  remembered  that  they  had  had  no  news  from  the 
royalist  camp,  and  knew  nothing  on  which  any  good  likeli 
hood  could  be  built. 

"  It  is  very  cruel  of  Stephen,"  she  sighed  ;  "  if  I  were 
with  the  King  I  would  get  word  to  my  father  and  sister  of 
the  King's  condition — but  it  is  either  drawing  the  sword  or 
shaking  the  dice,  and  while  they  gamble  away  the  hours  and 
the  gold  pieces,  father  and  I  fret  life  away  in  waiting  and 
watching  for  the  news  that  never  comes." 

The  sight  of  S  waff  ham  restored  her.  There  was  some 
thing  so  hearty  and  sincere  in  the  very  aspect  of  the  house. 
As  she  went  through  the  garden  she  saw  a  monthly  rose 
in  bloom,  and  she  plucked  it ;  and  with  the  fair  sweet 
flower  in  her  hand  entered  the  SwafF ham  parlour.  No  won 
der  she  had  missed  Jane  at  the  large  casement  where  she 
usually  sat  at  her  work  !  Jane  was  sitting  at  the  table  serv 
ing  Lord  Cluny  Neville,  who  was  eating  and  drinking  and 
leaning  towards  her  with  a  face  full  of  light  and  pleasure. 
Mrs.  SwafFham  sat  on  the  hearth  ;  it  was  Jane  who  was 
pouring  out  the  Spanish  wine  and  cutting  the  game  pasty, 
and  into  Jane's  face  the  young  Lord  was  gazing  with  eyes 
whose  expression  there  was  no  mistaking. 

Matilda  saw  the  whole  picture  in  a  glance,  and  she  set 
her  mood  to  match  it.  Dropping  her  gown,  she  let  the 
open  door  frame  her  beauty  for  a  moment.  She  was  con 
scious  that  she  was  lovely,  and  she  saw  the  swift  lifting  of 
Neville's  eyelids,  and  the  look  of  surprised  delight  which 
came  into  his  eyes.  She  was  resolved  to  be  charming,  and 
she  succeeded.  She  let  Jane  help  her  to  remove  her  hat 


SO   SWEET  A  DREAM  63 

and  tippet.  She  let  Mrs.  Swaffham  make  much  of  her, 
and  when  she  said, 

"  Draw  to  table,  my  dear,  and  have  a  mouthful,  for 
walking  is  hungry  work,  as  well  as  pleasant,"  Matilda 
laughed  and  answered, 

"  Indeed,  madame,  I  cannot  tell  wherein  the  pleasure  of 
walking  lies  ;  I  have  sought  it  till  I  am  weary,  and  cannot 
rind  it.  However,  I  confess  I  am  hungry  with  the  search." 

Then  she  sat  down  by  Neville,  and  he  cut  her  a  slice  of 
the  pastv,  and  Jane  filled  her  wine-glass,  and]  Neville 
touched  his  own  against  it,  and  wished  her  health  and  hap 
piness.  And  by  an  unspoken  agreement  they  said  not  a 
word  about  the  war,  but  eat  their  meal  to  such  cheerful 
thoughts  and  conversation  as  made  the  meat  and  drink 
wholesome  and  joyful.  Then  they  sang  some  madrigals, 
and  as  the  shades  of  evening  gathered,  Neville  began  to  tell 
them  wild,  weird  stories  of  the  Border-Land ;  and  Jane  had 
her  traditions  of  Swaffham,  and  Matilda  of  de  Wick,  and 
they  sat  in  the  twilight  pleasantly  afraid  of  the  phantoms 
they  had  themselves  conjured  up,  drawing  close  together 
and  speaking  with  a  little  awe,  and  finding  even  the  short 
silences  that  fell  upon  them  very  eloquent  and  satisfying. 

There  was  then  no  question  of  Matilda  returning  that 
night  to  de  Wick,  and  very  soon  Mrs.  Swaffham  joined 
them,  and  the  servants  began  to  build  up  the  fire  and  spread 
the  table  for  the  evening  meal. 

"  Time  wears  on,"  she  said.  u  I  thought  I  would  take 
a  nap  of  ten  minutes,  but  instead  of  shutting  my  eyes  in  a 
dog  sleep,  I  dropped  oft  till  candle-lighting.  Why  are  you 
all  looking  so  yonderly  ?  I  hope  Lord  Neville  has  not 
been  a  fob's  postman  ;  for  as  far  as  I  can  see,  Satan  does 
just  as  barefaced  cruelties  now  as  he  did  thousands  of  years 


64  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  We  have  been  talking  of  fairies,  and  the  gray  ghost  of 
Raby,  and  the  armoured  giant  that  keeps  Swaffham  portal, 
and  Matilda  has  told  us  many  awesome  things  about  Lady 
Sophia  de  Wick,  whose  ring  no  one  can  wear  and  escape 
doom." 

"  Peace  to  her  spirit,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Swaffham,  and 
Jane  added  thoughtfully, 

"  If  to  such  a  spirit,  peace  would  be  any  blessing." 

"  I  would  not  talk  of  the  dead  if  I  were  you ;  they  may  be 
nearer  than  you  think.  And  there  are  wick  men  and 
women  in  plenty  to  praise  and  to  ban.  Lord  Neville  has 
told  us  nothing  at  all,  yet,  about  General  Cromwell.  I 
would  like  to  know  what  is  going  on.  Whatever  has  he 
been  doing  since  Dunbar  ?  " — and  Mrs.  Swaffham  made 
these  remarks  and  asked  these  questions  with  just  a  little 
touch  of  impatient  irritability. 

"  The  first  thing  he  did  when  he  reached  Edinburgh," 
answered  Neville,  "  was  to  order  the  head  of  Montrose  to 
be  taken  down  from  the  Tolbooth  and  honourably  buried. 
Some  of  the  army  grumbled  at  this  order,  and  the  Scotch 
whigs  preached  and  raved  about  it,  and  even  Dr.  Verity,  it 
is  said,  spoke  sharply  to  Cromwell  on  the  matter.  And  'tis 
also  said  that  Cromwell  answered  with  some  passion,  '  I 
will  abide  by  my  order,  notwithstanding  the  anger  of  the 
foolish.  We  all  have  infirmities  ;  and  I  tell  you,  if  we  had 
among  our  ranks  more  such  faithful  hearts  and  brave  spirits, 
they  would  be  a  fence  around  us  ;  for  indeed  there  lives 
not  a  man  who  can  say  worse  of  Montrose  than  that  he 
loved  Charles  Stuart,  and  was  faithful  to  him  unto  death.'  " 

u  This  is  the  noblest  thing  I  have  heard  of  Oliver  Crom 
well,"  said  Matilda,  "  and  my  father  will  rejoice  to  hear  it. 
How  Montrose  loved  Charles  Stuart  I  will  tell  you,  for  my 
brother  Stephen  was  with  him  when  he  heard  first  of  the 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  65 

murder  of  his  King.  He  bowed  his  head  upon  his  sword 
and  wept,  and  when  his  heart  had  found  some  relief  in 
tears,  he  stood  up  and  called  the  King  in  a  mighty  voice, — 
indeed  Stephen  told  me  it  was  heard  beyond  all  probability, 
— and  with  a  great  oath  he  vowed  that  he  would  sing  his 
obsequies  with  trumpets,  and  write  his  epitaph  with  swords, 
in  blood  and  death."  As  Matilda  finished  her  story,  her 
voice  had  a  tone  of  triumph,  and  she  stood  up,  and  raised 
her  eyes,  and  then  made  such  a  sad,  reverent  obeisance 
as  she  might  have  done  had  the  dead  been  alive  and 
present.  No  one  liked  to  impugn  a  ceremony  so  pathetic 
and  so  hopeless  ;  and  a  constrained  silence  followed,  which 
was  broken  by  Jane  asking, 

"  Where  did  Charles  Stuart  go  after  Dunbar  ?  " 

u  He  went  northward  to  Perth.  For  a  little  while  he 
held  with  Argyle  and  the  Kirk,  but  the  Covenanters  drove 
him  too  hard.  They  told  him  he  must  purify  his  Court 
from  all  ungodly  followers,  and  so  made  him  dismiss 
twenty-two  English  Cavaliers  not  godly — that  is,  not  Cal- 
vinistic — enough.  Then  Charles,  not  willing  to  endure 
their  pious  tyranny,  ran  away  to  the  Highlands  behind  Perth, 
and  though  he  was  caught  and  persuaded  to  return,  he  did 
so  only  on  condition  that  his  friends  should  be  with  him 
and  fight  for  him." 

"  Why  should  the  Scots  object  to  that  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
S  waff  ham. 

"  Because,"  answered  Neville,  "  these  men  were  mostly 
Englishmen  and  Episcopalians  ;  and  the  Whigs  and  Cov 
enanters  hated  them  as  being  too  often  reckless  and  wicked 
men,  full  of  cavalier  sauciness.  In  return,  Charles  Stuart 
hated  the  Whigs  and  Covenanters,  made  a  mockery  of 
them,  and,  it  is  said,  did  not  disguise  his  amui-ement  and 
satisfaction  at  the  defeat  of  the  godly  army  at  Dunbar." 


66  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  And  how  did  these  godly  men  regard  Cromwell  ?  " 
asked  Matilda  with  undisguised  scorn. 

"  They  troubled  us  a  little  in  the  West,"  said  Neville, 
"  and  Cromwell  marched  the  army  to  Glasgow,  and  on  the 
next  Sabbath  day  the  preachers  railed  at  him  from  every 
pulpit  in  that  city.  One  of  them  met  the  Lord  General  on 
the  street,  and  attacked  him  with  threats  and  evil  prophe 
cies.  I  would  have  shut  his  lips  with  a  blow,  but  Crom 
well  said  to  me,  '  Let  him  alone ;  he  is  one  fool,  and 
you  are  another ; '  and  the  very  next  day  he  made  friends 
with  this  preacher,  and  I  met  them  coming  down  the  High 
Street  together  in  very  sober  and  pleasant  discourse.  After 
beating  these  Whigs  well  at  Plamilton,  we  went  into  win 
ter  quarters  at  Edinburgh  ;  and  Cromwell  is  now  staying  at 
Lord  Moray's  house  in  the  Canongate."  l 

"  He  ought  to  have  taken  his  rest  in  Holyrood  Palace," 
said  Jane. 

"  I  am  glad  he  did  not,"  replied  Neville.  "  'Tis  enough 
to  fight  the  living  Stuart ;  why  should  he  run  into  mortal 
danger  by  invading  the  home  of  that  unlucky  family  ?  A 
man  sleeps  in  his  dwelling-place, — and  when  he  sleeps  he 
is  at  the  mercy  of  the  dead." 

"  Not  so,"  said  Jane.  "  The  good  man  is  at  the  mercy 
of  God,  and  if  he  sleeps,  his  angel  wakes  and  watches.  '  I 
will  lay  me  down  in  peace  and  take  my  rest :  for  it  is 
Thou,  Lord,  only,  that  makest  me  dwell  in  safety."* 

Neville  looked  steadily  at  her  as  she  spoke  with  such 
a  glad  confidence;  and  Jane's  face  grew  rosy  under  his 
gaze,  while  Neville's  smile  widened  slowly,  until  his  whole 
countenance  shone  with  pleasure. 

They  spoke   next  of  the  Parliament   and   the  Council ; 

1  This  house  is  still  standing. 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  67 

and  Mrs.  Swaffham  said,  "  For  all  she  could  find  out,  they 
had  been  at  their  usual  work, — good  and  bad." 

"  And  generally  bad,"  ejaculated  Matilda. 

"  That  is  not  true,"  said  Jane.  "  Think  only  of  this  : 
they  have  commanded  the  laws  of  England  to  be  written 
in  English.  This  order  alone  justifies  them  with  the  peo 
ple.  Also,  they  have  received  foreign  ambassadors  with 
dignity,  and  taught  Holland,  France  and  Spain  by  the  voice 
of  Blake's  cannon  that  England  is  not  to  be  trifled  with  ; 
and  in  Ireland  they  are  carrying  on,  through  Ireton  and 
Ludlow,  the  good  work  Cromwell  began  there." 

"  Good  work,  indeed  !  "  cried  Matilda. 

"  Yes,  it  was  good  work,  grand  work,  the  best  work 
Cromwell  ever  did,"  answered  Neville  positively;  "a  most 
righteous  dealing  with  assassins,  who  had  slain  one  hundred 
thousand  Protestants — men,  women  and  children — while 
they  dwelt  in  peace  among  then,  thinking  no  evil  '  and 
looking  for  no  injury.  When  men  mad  with  religious 
hatred  take  fire  and  sword,  when  they  torture  the  helpless 
with  hunger  and  thirst  and  freezing  cold,  in  the  name  of 
the  merciful  Jesus,  then  there  is  no  punishment  too  great 
for  them." 


1  See  Knight's  History  of  England,  Vol.  3,  p.  464 ;  Clarendon  (royalist  his 
torian)  says  50,000;  I'axton  Hood,  Life  of  Cromwell,  p.  141,  says  as  high 
as  200,000;  Church  (American  edition)  from  50,000  to  200,000  with  muti 
lations  and  torture  ;  Imgard,  the  Catholic  historian,  in  Vol.  X,  p.  177,  ad 
mits  the  atrocity  of  the  massacre.  Alany  other  authorities,  notably  Hick- 
son's  "  Ireland  in  the  ijth  Century,"  which  contains  the  depositions  be 
fore  Parliament  relating  to  the  massacre.  These  documents,  printed  for  the 
first  time  in  1884,  will  cause  simple  wonder  that  a  terrible  massacre  on  a 
large  scale  could  ever  be  questioned,  nor  in  the  ijth  century  was  it  ever 
questioned,  nor  in  the  face  of  these  documents  can  it  ever  be  questioned, 
except  by  those  who  put  their  personal  prejudice  or  interest  before  the 
truth. 


63  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"The  number  slain  was  not  as  great  as  you  say,"  in 
terrupted  Matilda.  "  I  have  heard  it  was  only  ten  thou 
sand." 

"  I  care  not  for  the  number  of  thousands,"  said  Neville 
in  a  voice  trembling  with  passion ;  "  men  were  put  to  death 
with  all  the  horrors  religious  fanaticism  could  invent ; 
women  and  children  outraged,  starved,  burned  or  drowned 
with  relentless  fury.  There  were  months  of  such  perse 
cution  before  help  could  be  got  there." 

"Very  -well,  Lord  Neville,"  said  iMatilda  in  great  anger, 
"  Episcopalians  and  Calvinists  should  not  have  gone  to  Ire 
land.  I  bought  a  song  from  a  packman  the  other  day  for 
a  farthing,  that  just  suits  them  — 

" '  People  who  hold  such  positive  opinions 

Should  stay  at  home  in  Protestant  dominions.' 

I  am  sure  Cromwell  has  made  a  name  to  be  hated  and 
feared  in  Ireland  for  generations." 

"  England  has  far  more  cause  to  hate  and  ban  the  name 
of  O'Neal  for  generations ;  but  England  does  not  bluster ; 
she  rights  her  wrong,  and  then  forgives  it.  She  is  too  mag 
nanimous  to  hate  for  generations  any  race  because  one  gen 
eration  did  wrong.  Nowhere  was  Cromwell  more  just  and 
merciful  than  in  Ireland.  There  have  been  English  sieges 
— for  instance  Colchester — far  more  cruel  than  that  of 
Drogheda  ;  and  at  Drogheda  it  was  mostly  rebel  English 
men  that  were  slain,  Englishmen  fighting  in  Ireland  against 
the  Commonwealth.  Cromwell,  even  at  Droo-heda,  offered 

'  o  ' 

mercy  to  all  who  would  surrender  and  so  spare  blood.  He 
was  throughout  as  merciful  as  he  could  be,  as  the  Irish 
themselves  permitted  him  to  be.  I  shake  hands  with 
Cromwell  in  Ireland  and  I  clasp  a  clean,  merciful  hand  !  " 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  69 

And  as  he  said  these  words,  Jane  stretched  out  her  hand 
to  Neville;  and  Matilda  cried,  hysterically,  "Throne  of 
God  !  It  is  wicked  to  say  such  things  !  Give  me  my  hat 
and  tippet,  Jane,  I  will  listen  no  longer  to  Lord  Neville  ! 
He  is  worse  than  you  are." 

"  My  lady,  forgive  me  ;  but  truth  is  truth,  and  must  not 
be  withheld  when  the  occasion  calls  for  it." 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Swaffham,  who  had  left  the  room, 
returned  to  it ;  and  seeing  Matilda's  angry  distress,  she  at 
once  understood  its  cause. 

"  It  is  Ireland,  of  course,"  she  cried.  "  Children, 
children,  why  will  you  quarrel  about  those  savages  ?  They 
arc  not  in  your  concern  except  to  pray  for."  Then  turning 
to  Neville  she  asked,  u  My  Lord,  why  is  it  necessary  to 
speak  of  Ireland  ?  It  breeds  quarrels  to  name  it ;  well  is 
it  called  Ire-land,  the  land  of  ire,  and  anger,  and  quarrel 
ing.  I  forbid  the  word  in  this  house.  If  the  Irish  are  as 
sassins  for  God's  sake,  may  God  forgive  them  !  " 

"  There  is  nothing  impossible  to  God,  madame,"  said 
Neville.  "  But  men  find  some  limitations  ;  and  when  effects 
are  so  much  talked  of  and  condemned,  it  is  the  part  of 
Eternal  Justice — though  only  from  a  mortal's  mouth — to 
balance  the  deeds  with  the  deeds  that  called  them  forth. 
And  none  can  deny  that  Phelim  O'Neal's  atrocities  called 
into  righteous  existence  Oliver  Cromwell's  retributions." 
And  at  these  words  Matilda  threw  herself  on  the  sofa  in  a 
passion  of  tears. 

Neville  fell  on  his  knees  at  her  side.  "  Say  you  pardon 
me,"  he  urged  ;  "  I  have  wounded  myself  worse  than  you. 
Your  tears  drop  like  fire  on  my  heart;  I  promise  you  they 
do." 

With    a   slight   frown   on    her  face  Tane  stood  looking  at 

O  J  O 

the     two.      Site     despised    that    abnegation    of  self-control 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 

which  turned  conversation  and  argument  into  disputing,  and 
anger,  and  tears ;  and  after  a  moment's  thought,  she  went 
to  her  friend's  side  and  asked  Neville  to  rise.  "  There  is 
no  need  to  humble  oneself  for  the  truth,"  she  said  softly  ; 
"  and  Matilda  knows  that.  She  is  now  fretted  with  anxiety, 
and  must  not  be  judged  by  her  words."  Then  she  took 
Neville's  place  and  soothed  and  reasoned  with  the  weeping 
girl,  as  best  she  knew  how ;  and  Mrs.  Swaffham  brought 
the  Bible  for  the  evening  prayer,  and  the  words  of  the  com 
forting  Psalm  stayed  all  other  words  ;  and  when  they  ceased 
there  was  peace. 

But  Jane  was  grieved  in  her  very  heart.  The  evening 
promising  so  much  had  been  spoiled ;  for  love  in  such  an 
unhappy  atmosphere  could  find  no  opportunities.  Yet  in 
the  short  tremulous  "  good-night "  which  followed,  Jane 
both  remembered  and  foresaw ;  remembered  the  sweet 
glances  and  the  refluent  waves  of  sweet  smiles  which 
through  all  shadowings  had  drawn  Love  deep  into  her  heart ; 
and  foresaw,  beyond  all  obstacles  and  peradventures,  what 
possible  joy  might  be  waiting  in  the  future.  And  swift  as 
thought  the  delicate  love  lines  of  her  mouth  grew  bright 
with  expectation,  and  the  clasp  of  Neville's  hand  thrilled 
to  her  warm  heart,  and  her  soul  blessed  Love  and  Hope,  and 
sheltered  itself  in  the  sunshine  of  their  imperishable  land. 

Neville  had  asked  to  be  called  early,  and  before  daybreak 
he  came  into  the  parlour  ready  for  his  journey.  Some  broiled 
beef,  a  manchet  of  white  bread,  and  a  black  jack  of  spiced 
ale,  stirred  with  a  rosemary  branch,  was  waiting  for  him  ; 
and  Mrs.  Swaffham  and  Jane  sat  at  his  side  while  he  eat 
and  drank.  He  spoke  regretfully  of  his  temper  on  the 
previous  night,  and  left  a  message  of  apology  for  Lady 
Matilda  de  Wick,  adding  to  it  his  sorrow,  "  not  to  be  so 
favoured  as  to  make  his  excuses  in  person." 


SO   SWEET  A  DREAM  71 

"  Matilda  will  sleep  for  three  hours  yet,"  said  Mrs. 
Swaffham,  "  and  I  will  be  glad  if  she  has  that  much  com 
fort,  for  she  frets  her  heart  away  when  she  is  awake." 

Then  they  stood  up,  for  Neville's  horse  came  clattering 
to  the  door.  He  clasped  Jane's  hand  as  it  hung  by  her 
side,  and  they  walked  thus  to  the  threshold.  Snow  was 
falling  ;  the  steps  were  white  with  it,  and  the  east  wind 
blew  it  gently  in  their  faces.  Mrs.  Swaffham  laughed  and 
drew  her  shawl  over  her  head,  and  Neville  laughed  also, 
and  with  a  cheerful  word,  leaped  to  his  saddle,  his  dark 
figure  growing  more  and  more  phantom-like  through  the  dim 
dawn  and  the  white  veil  of  the  snow.  At  the  gate  he 
wheeled  his  horse,  and,  saluting  them,  vanished  into  the  gray 
obscurity,  which  made  all  things  as  if  they  were  not. 

"  The  storm  will  grow  worse,  I  fear,"  said  Jane  as  they 
turned  into  the  house. 

"  More  like  than  not,"  answered  Mrs.  Swaffham  ;  "  but 
he  is  a  dauntless  youth,  and  nothing  but  good  will  come 
to  him.  Where  goes  he  to-day  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  he  can  go.  He  is  in  haste  to  reach  Edin 
burgh,  for  there  is  fresh  news  of  rebels  from  Ireland  land- 

O       ' 

ing  on  the  Scotch  coast.  He  showed  me  this  report  in  a 
copy  of  the  news-letter  called  The  Scottish  Dove." 

"  A  badly  named  news-letter,  Jane  ;  the  Scotch  are  never 
for  peace." 

u  It  is  intended  for  a  peace  paper,  mother." 

"  They  are  confused  in  their  minds  concerning  peace. 
What  did  it  say  ?  " 

"•  That  ten  ships  were  leaving  Bristol  to  bring  men  from 
Ireland  to  help  Charles  Stuart  against  Cromwell.  The  Dove 
asserts,  'the  Scotch  are  ready  for  speedy  action,  if  God 
permit,  and  if  advance  money  be  forthcoming;'"  and  Jane 
laughed  scornfully  at  the  saving  clause. 


72  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  He  did  not  say  much  of  the  Cromwells.  I'll  warrant, 
they  will  forget  you  in  their  rising  state." 

"  Far  away  from  it.  Mary  and  Frances  sent  me  many 
good  words,  and  they  are  very  persuasive  with  me  to  come 
to  London  and  share  their  state." 

"  You  cannot  go  just  yet,  Jane.  Your  father  is  opposed 
to  it,  until  General  Cromwell  returns  there.  Then,  if  it  so 
please  God,  we  shall  all  go — at  least  for  a  season." 

"  But  when  will  Cromwell  return  there  ?  " 

"  God  has  set  a  time  for  all  events,  Jane.  We  must 
wait  for  it.  What  think  you  of  Matilda  ?  " 

"  That  she  is  in  trouble  greater  than  we  know.  She  shuts 
in  her  words,  but  I  think  that  something  is  about  to  happen." 

"  Anything  may  happen  with  Cromwell  in  Scotland,  and 
the  Parliament  carrying  things  with  such  a  high  hand.  But 
see,  Jane,  we  must  be  after  our  own  concerns.  Servants, 
men  and  women,  are  getting  beyond  all  belief ;  they  do  such 
barefaced  things  as  never  was.  The  week's  butter  is  gone 
already,  and  when  I  spoke  to  Debby,  she  wiped  her  saucy 
mouth  and,  like  the  fox  in  the  fable,  '  thanked  God  she 
wasn't  a  thief.'  ' 

Then  the  mother  and  daughter  separated,  and  Jane  went 
to  her  friend's  room.  She  was  languidly  brushing  out  her 
long  black  hair,  and  Jane  tried  to  kiss  a  smile  into  her 
melancholy  face.  And  as  she  lifted  her  head,  she  had  a 
momentary  glance  at  a  beautiful  miniature  lying  upon  the 
dressing-table.  The  face  was  that  of  a  youth  with  flowing 
locks  and  a  falling  collar  of  lace  ;  but  Jane  was  too  honour 
able  to  let  her  eyes  rest  consciously  upon  what  was  evidently 
hid  from  her.  For  in  that  same  moment,  Matilda  moved 
her  ribbons  and  kerchief  in  a  hurried  way,  contriving  in  so 
doing,  to  cover  the  picture.  Then  she  assumed  her  usual 
manner  and  asked, 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  73 

"  Is  Lord  Neville  still  angry  at  me  ?  I  suppose  if  I  had  re 
mained  with  him,  he  would  have  eaten  me  by  this  time." 

"  He  was  very  sorry  for  his  show  of  temper,  and  would 
fain  have  made  some  apologies  to  you." 

"Then  he  has  gone  ?  Well,  it  is  not  worth  my  while 
saying  I  am  sorry  for  it." 

u  He  set  off  early  this  morning." 

"  And  so  gave  me  the  slip." 

"  Oh,  no  !  He  had  important  news  for  General  Crom 
well,  and  would  push  on  at  his  utmost." 

"  Yet  staying  awhile  at  every  decent  Puritan  dwelling, 
and  making  love  to  their  sweet  daughters." 

"  Do  not  be  ill-natured,  Matilda.  He  had  letters  from 
my  father  and  brothers,  and  also  from  Mary  and  Frances 
Cromwell  to  deliver,  or  he  had  not  stopped  at  Swaff- 
ham." 

"  Oh,  Jane,  Jane  !  I  pray  your  pardon  !  It  must  be  easy 
now  to  forgive  me,  I  keep  you  so  well  in  practice.  In 
truth,  I  am  a  wretched  girl,  this  morning.  I  have  been 
dreaming  of  calamities,  and  my  speech  is  too  small  for  my 
heart.  And  this  young  lord  with  his  adoration  of  Crom 
well  and  his  familiar  talk  of  '  the  ladies  Mary  and  Frances  ' 
angered  me,  for  I  thought  of  the  days  when  the  Lord 
General  was  plain  '  Mr.  Cromwell,'  and  we  were,  both  of 
us,  in  love  with  young  Harry  Cromwell." 

"  Was  I  in  love  with  Harry  Cromwell  ?  If  so,  I  have 
forgotten  it." 

"  You  were  in  love  with  Harry  Cromwell — or  you 
thought  so — and  so  was  I.  Do  you  remember  his  teaching 
us  how  to  skate  ?  What  spirits  we  all  had  then  !  How 
handsome  he  was  !  How  strong  !  How  good-natured  !  I 

O  O 

hear  now  that  he  is  all  for   Dorothy  Osborne,    and  has  had 
some  Irish  hounds  sent  her,  and  sea!  rings,  and  I  know  not 


74  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

what  other  tokens.  And  Mistress  Dorothy  is  a  royalist — 
that  is  one  good  thing  about  her.  Very  soon  this  lucky 
Cromwell  family  will  coax  you  to  London  to  see  all  their 
glory,  and  I  shall  be  left  in  de  Wick  with  no  better  com 
pany  than  a  clock  ;  for  my  father  speaks  to  me  about  once 
an  hour,  and  the  Chaplain  not  at  all,  unless  to  reprove  me." 

"  But  you  shall  come  to  London  also." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ill  of  me  as  to  believe  I  would  leave 
my  father  in  the  loneliness  of  de  Wick  ?  And  you  know 
if  he  went  to  London  he  would  be  watched  day  and  night, 
and  though  he  were  white  as  innocence  about  the  King, 
some  one  would  make  him  as  black  as  Satan." 

"  Look  now,  Matilda,  I  will  myself  see  Cromwell  as  soon 
as  he  is  in  London.  I  will  say  to  him, '  My  dear  Lord  and 
General,  I  have  a  favour  to  ask ; '  and  he  will  kiss  me  and 
answer,  '  What  is  it,  little  Jane  ? '  and  I  will  tell  him  that 
I  want  my  friend,  Matilda  de  Wick,  and  that  she  will  not 
leave  her  father  alone ;  and  that  will  go  right  down  into 
his  tender  heart,  to  the  very  soul  of  him,  and  he  will  say — 
perhaps  with  tears  in  his  eyes — '  She  is  a  good  girl,  and  I 
loved  her  father,  and  he  stood  by  me  once  against  the  elder 
Charles  Stuart  and  the  Star  Chamber.  Yes  he  did,  and  I 
will  leave  de  Wick  in  charge  of  his  own  honour,  and  I  will 
give  his  daughter  my  name  to  shield  them  both.  I  will, 
surely.'  Such  words  as  this,  good  Cromwell  will  say.  I 
know  it." 

"  Oh,  Jane,  dear  Jane,  if  I  had  to  give  a  reason  for  loving 
you,  what  could  I  say  for  myself?  If  you  can  indeed  do 
this  thing  for  me,  how  glad  I  shall  be  !  "  And  she  stood  up 
and  kissed  her  friend,  and  in  a  little  while  they  went  down 
stairs  together,  and  Matilda  had  some  boiled  milk  and  bread 
and  a  slice  of  venison.  Then  she  asked  Mrs.  Swaffham  to 
let  her  have  a  coach  to  go  home  in. 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  75 

"  For  it  is  so  near  Christmas,"  she  said,  "  that  snow,  or 
no  snow,  I  must  go  to  de  Wick.  Audrey  was  making  the 
Nativity  Pie  when  I  left  home,  and  it  is  that  we  may  re 
member  my  brave  dead  brothers  and  my  sweet  mother  as 
we  eat  it.  Then  we  shall  talk  of  them  and  of  the  happy 
Christmas  days  gone  by,  and  afterwards  go  away  and  pray 
for  their  remembrance  and  blessedness." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham  solemnly,  "  the  dead 
are  with  God.  There  is  no  need  to  pray  for  them." 

"  It  comforts  my  heart  to  ask  God  that  they  may  remem 
ber  me.  I  think  surely  He  will  do  so.  He  must  know 
how  we  feel  at  Christmas.  He  must  hear  our  sad  talk  of 
them,  and  see  our  tears,  and  He  has  not  forbid  us  anywhere 
in  the  Bible  to  come  to  Him  about  our  dead,  any  more  than 
about  our  living.  Father  Sacy  says  I  may  confidently  go 
to  Him ;  that  He  will  be  pleased  that  I  still  remember. 
And  as  I  do  not  forget  them,  they  will  not  forget  me.  In 
God's  very  presence  they  may  pray  for  me." 

Mrs.  Swaffham  kissed  her  for  answer,  and  they  sent  her 
away  with  such  confidence  of  good-will  and  coming  happi 
ness  that  the  girl  almost  believed  days  might  be  hers  in  the 
future  as  full  of  joy  as  days  in  the  past  had  been. 

"  She  has  a  true  heart,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham  as  they 
watched  the  coach  disappear  ;  and  Jane  answered, 

"  Yes,  she  has  a  true  heart ;  and  when  we  go  to  London 
the  de  Wicks  must  go  also.  Mother,  I  think  she  has  yet 
a  tender  fancy  for  Harry  Cromwell — it  might  be."  But 
Mrs.  Swaffham  shook  her  head,  and  Jane  remembered  the 
miniature,  and  all  day  long  at  intervals  wondered  whose  the 
pictured  face  was.  And  the  snow  fell  faster  and  thicker 
for  many  days,  and  all  the  narrow  ways  and  lanes  were 
strangled  with  it.  Mrs.  Swaffham  constantly  spoke  of 
Neville,  and  wondered  if  it  were  possible  for  him  to  make 


76  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

his  way  north,  until  one  night,  more  than  a  week  after  his 
visit,  she  suddenly  said, 

"Jane,  I  have  a  strong  belief  that  Lord  Neville  has 
reached  Edinburgh ;"  and  Jane  smiled  brightly  back  as  she 
answered,  "  I  have  the  same  assurance,  mother."  And 
this  pulse  of  prescience,  this  flash  and  flow  of  thought  and 
feeling  was  no  marvel  at  all  to  their  faithful  souls. 

"  I  did  not  fear  for  him,  he  is  not  a  man  to  miss  his 
mark,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham. 

"  And  we  must  remember  this,  also,  mother,  that  God 
takes  hands  with  good  men." 

"  To  be  sure,  Jane,  it  is  all  right ;  and  now  I  must  look 
after  the  house  a  little."  So  saying  she  went  away  softly 
repeating  a  verse  from  her  favourite  Psalm,  thus  suffusing 
with  serene  and  sacred  glow  the  plainest  duties  of  her 
daily  life. 

After  this  visit,  it  was  cold  winter  weather,  and  Cluny 
Neville  came  no  more  until  the  pale  windy  spring  was  over 
the  land.  And  this  visit  was  so  short  that  Mrs.  SwafFham, 
who  had  gone  to  Ely,  did  not  see  him  at  all.  For  he 
merely  rested  while  a  fresh  horse  was  prepared  for  him,  eat 
ing  a  little  bread  and  meat  almost  from  Jane's  hand  as  he 
waited.  Yet  in  that  half-hour's  stress  and  hurry,  Love 
overleaped  a  space  that  had  not  been  taken  without  it ;  for 
as  he  stood  with  one  hand  on  his  saddle,  ready  to  leap  into 
it,  Jane  trembling  and  pale  at  his  side,  he  saw  unshed  tears 
in  her  eyes  and  felt  the  unspoken  love  on  her  lips,  and  as 
he  clasped  her  hand  his  heart  sprang  to  his  tongue,  and  he 
said  with  a  passionate  tenderness, 

"  Farewell,  Jane  !  Darling  Jane  !  "—then,  afraid  of  his 
own  temerity,  he  was  away  ere  he  could  see  the  wonder  and 
joy  called  into  her  face  by  the  sweet  familiar  words. 

When  he  came  again,  it  was  harvest  time ;  the  reapers 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  77 

were  in  the  wheat-fields,  and  as  he  neared  Swaft'ham  he 
saw  Jane  standing  among  the  bound  sheaves,  serving  the 
men  and  women  with  meat  and  drink.  For  though  the  day 
was  nearly  over,  the  full  moon  had  risen,  and  the  labourers 
were  going  to  finish  their  work  by  its  light.  He  tied  his 
horse  at  the  gate  and  went  to  her  side,  and  oh,  how  fair 
and  sweet  he  found  her  !  Never  had  she  looked,  never  had 
any  woman  looked  in  his  eyes,  so  enthralling.  In  her 
simple  dress  with  its  snow-white  lawn  bodice  and  apron, 
surrounded  by  the  reapers  whom  she  was  serving,  she 
looked  like  some  rural  goddess,  though  Neville  thought 
rather  of  some  Judean  damsel  in  the  fields  of  Bethlehem. 
Her  little  white  hood  had  fallen  backwards,  and  the  twilight 
and  the  moonlight  upon  her  gathered  tresses  made  of  them 
a  kind  of  glory.  The  charm  of  the  quiet  moon  was  over 
all ;  there  was  no  noise,  indeed  rather  a  pastoral  melancholy 
with  a  gentle  ripple  of  talk  threading  it  about  ploughing 
and  sowing  and  rural  affairs. 

In  a  short  time  the  men  and  women  scattered  to  their 
work,  and  Cluny,  turning  his  bright  face  to  Jane's,  took 
both  her  hands  in  his  and  said  with  eager  delight, 

"  Dear  Jane  !  Darling  Jane  !  Oh,  how  I  love  you  !  " 
The  words  came  without  intent.  He  caught  his  breath 
with  fear  when  he  realised  his  presumption,  for  Jane  stood 
silent  and  trembling,  and  he  did  not  at  first  understand  that 
it  was  for  joy  which  she  hardly  comprehended  and  did  not 
at  once  know  how  to  express.  But  the  heart  is  a  ready 
scholar  when  love  teaches,  and  as  they  slowly  passed 
through  the  fields  of  yellow  fulness,  finding  their  happy 
way  among  the  standing  sheaves,  Jane  heard  and  under 
stood  that  heavenly  talc  which  Cluny  knew  so  well  how  to 
tell  her.  The  moon's  face,  warm  and  passionate,  shed  her 
tender  influence  over  them,  and  their  hearts  grew  great  and 


78  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

loving  in  it.  For  this  one  hour  the  bewitching  moonlight 
of  The  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  was  theirs,  and  they  did 
well  to  linger  in  it,  and  to  fill  their  souls  with  its  wondrous 
radiance.  None  just  as  heavenly  would  ever  shine  for  them 
again ;  never  again,  oh,  surely  never  again,  would  they 
thread  the  warm,  sweet  harvest  fields,  and  feel  so  little  below 
the  angels  ! 

Not  until  they  reached  SwafFham  did  they  remember 
that  they  two  were  not  the  whole  round  world.  But  words 
of  care  and  wonder  and  eager  inquiry  about  war,  and  rumour 
of  war,  soon  broke  the  heavenly  trance  of  feeling  in  which 
they  had  found  an  hour  of  Paradise.  Mrs.  SwafFham  was 
exceedingly  anxious.  The  country  was  full  of  frightsome 
expectations.  Reports  of  Charles  Stuart's  invasion  of  Eng 
land  were  hourly  growing  more  positive.  Armed  men  were 
constantly  passing  northward,  and  no  one  could  accurately 
tell  what  forces  they  would  have  to  meet.  It  was  said  that 
Charles  had  not  only  the  Highland  Clans,  but  also  Irish, 
French  and  Italian  mercenaries ;  and  that  foreign  troops 
had  received  commissions  to  sack  English  towns  and  vil 
lages,  in  order  to  place  a  popish  king  upon  the  throne.  For 
there  were  not  any  doubts  as  to  Charles  Stuart's  religious 
predilections.  His  taking  of  the  Covenant  was  known  to 
be  a  farce,  at  which  he  privately  laughed,  and  the  most  leni 
ent  judged  him  a  Protestant,  lined  through  and  through  with 
Popery. 

So  the  blissful  truce  was  over,  and  Jane  and  Cluny  were 
part  of  the  weary,  warring,  working  world  again.  Cluny 
knew  nothing  which  could  allay  fear.  He  had  just  come 
from  London,  and  he  said—"  The  city  is  almost  in  panic ; 
many  are  even  suspecting  the  fidelity  of  Cromwell,  and  ask 
ing  why  he  has  permitted  Charles  Stuart  to  escape  his  army. 
And  yet  Cromwell  sent  by  me  a  letter  urging  Parliament  to 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  79 

get  such  forces  as  they  had  in  readiness  to  give  the  enemy 
some  check  until  he  should  be  able  to  reach  up  to  him. 
And  still  he  added,  as  the  last  words,  that  trust  in  the  Lord 
which  is  his  constant  battle-cry.  How  can  England  fear 
with  such  a  General  to  lead  her  armv  ?  " 

"  And  what  of  the  General's  family  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
SwafFham,  "are  they  not  afraid  ?  " 

"  They  are  concerned  and  anxious,  but  not  fearful.  In 
deed,  the  old  Lady  Cromwell  astonished  me  beyond  words. 
She  smiled  at  the  panic  in  the  city,  and  said  '  It  is  the  begin 
ning  of  triumph.'  And  when  madame,  the  General's  wife, 
spoke  sharply,  being  in  a  heart-pain  of  loving  care,  she 
answered  her  daughter-in-law  with  sweet  forbearance  in 
words  I  cannot  forget:  'Elizabeth,!  know  from  a  sure 
word  the  ground  of  my  confidence.  I  have  seen,  I  have 
heard.  Rest  on  my  assurance,  and  until  triumph  comes, 
retire  to  Him  who  is  a  sure  hiding-place.'  And  the  light 
on  her  aged  face  was  wonderful ;  she  was  like  one  waiting 
for  a  great  joy,  restless  at  times,  and  going  to  the  windows 
of  her  room  as  if  impatient  for  its  arrival.  I  count  it  a 
mercy  and  a  privilege  to  have  seen  her  faith  in  God,  and  in 
her  great  son.  It  is  the  substance  of  the  thing  we  hope  for, 
the  evidence  of  what  we  shall  all  yet  see,"  he  cried  in  a  tone 
of  exaltation.  "  And  now  give  me  a  strong,  fresh  horse  ;  I 
will  ride  all  night  !  Oh,  that  I  were  at  great  Cromwell's 
side  !  Charles  Stuart  has  entered  England,  but  Cromwell's 
dash  and  sweep  after  him  will  be  something  for  men  and 
angels  to  see  !  Not  for  my  life  would  I  miss  it." 

"  Where  do  you  expect  to  find  Cromwell  ?  " 

"  I  left  him  at  Oueensferry  in  Fife,  cutting  off  the 
enemy's  victual.  This  would  force  the  Stuart  either  to 
fight  or  go  southward,  for  he  has  completely  exhausted  the 
North,  and  it  seems  he  has  taken  the  south  road.  But  it  is 


80  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

incredible  that  this  move  is  either  unexpected  or  unwelcome 
to  our  General.  Once  before,  he  put  himself  between 
England  and  the  Scots,  and  '  how  God  succoured,'  that  is 
not  well  to  be  forgotten.'  Those  were  his  words,  and  you 
will  notice,  that  it  is  '  how  God  succoured,'  not  how  Crom 
well  succeeded.  With  him  it  is  always,  The  Lord  strong 
and  mighty,  the  Lord  mighty  in  battle  ;  "  and  Cluny's  voice 
rose  and  his  words  rang  out  sharply  to  the  clatter  of  the 
horse's  hoofs  on  the  stone  pavement. 

Then  he  turned  to  Jane.  "  Darling  Jane  !  My  Jane  !  " 
and  kissing  her,  he  said  boldly  to  Mrs.  Swaffham,  "  I  ask 
your  favour,  madame.  Jane  has  this  hour  promised  to  be  my 
wife." 

"Jane  has  then  been  very  forward,"  answered  Mrs. 
Swaffham  with  annoyance,  "  and  both  of  you  very  selfish 
and  thoughtless.  While  your  mother  England's  heart  is  at 
her  lips,  in  this  dread  extremity,  you  two  must  needs  talk 
of  love  and  marrying.  I  am  grieved.  And  Jane's  father 
has  not  been  spoken  to,  and  he  is  first  of  all.  I  can  say 
neither  yea  nor  nay  in  the  matter." 

"  But  you  will  surely  speak  for  us.  Give  me  a  kind 
word,  madame,  ere  I  go."  And  she  could  not  resist  the 
youth's  beauty  and  sweet  nature,  nor  yet  the  thought  in  her 
heart  that  it  might  perhaps  be  his  last  request.  If  he  should 
be  slain  in  battle,  and  she  had  refused  the  kind  word,  what 
excuse  would  quiet  her  self-reproach  ?  Then  she  looked 
kindly  at  him,  and  the  thought  of  the  young  prince  David 
going  out  to  meet  the  uncircumcised  Philistine  who  had  de 
fied  the  armies  of  the  living  God,  came  into  her  heart ;  and 
she  drew  down  his  face  to  hers  and  kissed  and  blessed  him, 
saying,  as  Saul  said  to  David,  "  Go,  and  the  Lord  be  with 
thee." 

Then  he  leaped  into  the  saddle,  and  the  horse  caught  his 


SO  SWEET  A  DREAM  81 

impatience  and  shared  his  martial  passion,  and  with  a  loud 
neigh  went  flying  over  the  k:ncl.  Silently  the  two  women 
watched  the  dark  figure  2 row  more  and  more  indistinct  in 

O  O 

the  soft,  mysterious  moonshine,  until  at  length  it  was  a 
mere  shadow  that  blended  with  the  indistinctness  o!  the 
horizon. 

u  Thank  you,  dear  mother,"  said  Jane  softly,  and  the 
mother  answered,  "  In  these  times  who  dare  say  good-bye 
in  anger  :  But  let  me  tell  you,  Jane,  you  cannot  now 
think  of  yourself  first.  England  is  at  the  sword's  point ; 
your  father  and  brothers  are  living  on  a  battle-field  ;  your 
lover  is  only  one  of  thousands  fighting  for  the  truth  and 

O  O 

the  right,  and  his  hie  is  England's  before  it  is  yours.  God 
and  country  must  be  served  first,  eh,  my  dear  r  " 

"  Yes,  mother.      First  and  best  of  all." 

"  When  Neville  has  done  his  duty,  he  will  come  for  you. 
He  can  no  more  bear  to  live  without  you  than  without  his 
eyes.  I  sec  that." 

Before  Jane  could  reply,  they  heard  the  men  and  women 
coming  from  the  harvesting.  They  were  singing  as  they 
trailed  homeward,  their  harsh,  drawling  voices  in  the  night's 

'  '  O  O 

silence  sounding  tired  and  pathetic  and  bare  of  melody. 
Jane  slipped  away  to  the  music  in  her  own  heart,  closing 
within  herself  that  Love  whose  growth  had  been  sweet  and 
silent  as  the  birth  of  roses. 


CHAPTER  V 

SHEATHED  SWORDS 

"  The  peaceful  cities 

Lulled  in  their  ease  and  undisturbed  before  are  all  on  fire. 
The  thick  battalions  move  in  dreadful  form 
As  lowering  clouds  advance  before  a  storm  ; 
Thick  smoke  obscures  the  field,  and  scarce  are  seen, 
The  neighing  coursers  and  the  shouting  men  ; 
In  distance  of  their  darts  they  stop  their  course, 
Then  man  to  man  they  rush,  and  horse  to  horse. 
The  face  of  heaven  their  flying  javelins  hide 
And  deaths  unseen  are  dealt  on  every  side. 

the  fields  are  strewed 

With  fallen  bodies,  and  are  drunk  with  blood." 

IT  will  be  well  now  to  recall  the  positions  which  Charles 
Stuart  and  Cromwell,  with  their  armies,  occupied.  The 
royalist  defeat  at  Dunbar  occurred  on  September  the  third, 
A.  D.  1650,  and  Charles,  after  it,  sought  shelter  in  the  for 
tress  of  Stirling  Castle,  where  he  remained  until  he  went  to 
Perth.  Here,  on  January  the  first,  1651,  he  was  crowned 
King  of  Scotland,  and  then  he  assumed  the  command  of 
Captain-General  of  the  Scotch  forces,  having  under  him  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton  and  David  Leslie.  At  this  time  the 
Scotch  army  had  become  purely  royal  and  malignant, 
the  Kirk  having  done  its  part  had  retired,  leaving  the  King 
to  manage  his  own  affairs.  During  the  winter,  which  was 
long  and  severe,  Charles  and  his  army  could  do  nothing ; 
but  when  fine  weather  came  and  they  understood  that  Crom 
well  would  march  to  Perth,  the  Scotch  army  went  south 
ward,  fortifying  itself  on  the  famous  Torwood  Hill,  between 
Stirling  and  Falkirk. 

82 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  83 

This  long  winter  had  been  one  of  great  suffering  to  Gen 
eral  Cromwell.  After  making  himself  master  of  the  whole 
country  south  of  Forth  and  Clyde,  he  had  a  severe  illness, 
and  lay  often  at  the  point  of  death.  In  the  month  of  May 
two  physicians  were  sent  by  Parliament  from  London  to 
Edinburgh  to  attend  him,  but  ere  they  arrived,  the  Lord 
Himself  had  been  his  physician  and  said  unto  him,  Live  ! 
He  took  the  field  in  June,  throwing  the  main  part  of  his 
army  into  Fife,  in  order  to  cut  off  the  enemy's  victual. 
This  move  forced  the  hand  of  Charles  Stuart.  His  army 
was  in  mutiny  for  want  of  provisions,  the  North  country 
was  already  drained,  he  durst  not  risk  a  battle — but  the  road 
into  England  was  clear. 

O 

Cromwell  himself  had  gone  northward  to  Perth,  and  on 
the  second  of  August  he  took  possession  of  that  city ;  but 
while  entering  it  was  told  that  Charles  Stuart,  with  four 
teen  thousand  men,  had  suddenly  left  Stirling  and  was 
marching  towards  England.  Cromwell  was  neither  sur- 

O  O 

prised  nor  alarmed ;  perhaps,  indeed,  he  had  deliberately 
opened  the  way  for  this  move  by  going  northward  to  Perth, 
and  leaving  the  road  to  England  open.  At  any  rate,  when 
Charles  reached  the  border  he  found  Harrison  with  a  strong 
body  of  horse  waiting  for  him,  while  Fleetwood  with  his 
Yorkshiremen  lay  heavy  on  his  left  flank,  and  Lambert  with 
all  the  English  cavalry  was  jogging  on,  pressing  close  the 
rear  of  his  army.  For  in  Lambert's  ears  was  ringing  night 
and  day  Cromwell's  charge  to  him, — 

"  Use  utmost  diligence  !     With  the  rest  of  the  horse  and 

O 

men  I  am  hastening  up,  and  by  the  Lord's  help,  I  shall  be 
in  good  time." 

Charles  had  taken  the  western  road  by  Carlisle,  and  it 
was  thought  he  would  make  for  London.  He  went  at  a 
flying  speed  past  York,  Nottingham,  Coventry,  until  he 


!84  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

reached  the  borders  of  Shropshire,  summoning  every  town 
he  passed,  but  hardly  waiting  for  the  thundering  negatives 
that  answered  his  challenge  ;  for  the  swift,  steady  tramp  of 
Cromwell's  pursuit  was  daily  drawing  nearer  and  nearer. 
Reaching  Shrewsbury,  he  found  the  gates  shut  against  him, 
and  his  men  were  so  disheartened  that  the  King  with  cap 
in  hand  entreated  them  "  yet  a  little  longer  to  stick  to  him." 
For  all  his  hopes  and  promises  had  failed,  there  had  been 
no  rising  in  his  favour,  no  surrender  of  walled  towns, 
and  the  roads  between  Shrewsbury  and  London 
were  bristling  with  gathering  militia.  So  Charles  turned 
westward  to  Worcester,  a  city  reported  to  be  loyal,  where 
he  was  received  with  every  show  of  honour  and  af 
fection.  Here  he  set  up  his  standard  on  the  ill-omened 
twenty-second  of  August,  the  very  day  nine  years  pre 
vious,  on  which  his  father  had  planted  his  unfortunate 
standard  at  Nottingham. 

Meanwhile  Cromwell  was  following  Charles  with  a 
steady  swiftness  that  had  something  fateful  in  it.  He  had 
taken  Perth  on  the  second  of  August ;  he  left  it  with  ten 
thousand  men  on  the  third ;  he  was  on  the  border  by  the 
eighth  ;  he  was  at  Warwick  on  the  twenty-fourth,  where  he 
was  immediately  joined  by  Harrison,  Fleetwood  and  Lam 
bert.  Such  swiftness  and  precision  must  have  been  pre 
arranged,  either  by  Cromwell  or  by  Destiny.  It  was  to  be 
the  last  battle  of  the  Civil  War,  and  Cromwell  knew  it,  for 
he  had  beyond  the  lot  of  mortals  that  wondrous  insight,  that 
prescience,  which,  like  the  scabbard  of  the  sword  Excalibur, 
was  more  than  the  blade  itself — the  hilt  armed  with  eyes. 
There  was  in  his  soul,  even  at  Perth,  the  assurance  of  Vic 
tory,  and  as  he  passed  through  the  towns  and  villages  of 
England,  men  would  not  be  restrained.  They  threw  down 
the  sickle  and  the  spade  in  the  field,  the  hammer  in  the 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  85 

forge,  the  plane  at  the  bench,  and  catching  hold  of  the  stir 
rups  of  the  riders,  ran  with  them  to  the  halting-place. 
Cromwell  had  no  need  to  beg  Englishmen  yet  a  little  longer 
to  stick  to  him.  His  form  of  rugged  grandeur,  the  majesty 
and  fierceness  of  his  face,  and  his  air  of  invincible  strength 
and  purpose,  said  to  all,  This  is  the  Pathfinder  of  your  Eng 
lish  Freedom  !  Folloiv  Him  !  The  man  was  a  magnet,  and 
drew  men  to  him  ;  he  looked  at  them,  and  they  fell  into 
his  ranks ;  he  rode  singing  of  Victory  at  their  head,  and 
women  knelt  on  the  streets  and  by  the  roadside  to  pray  for 
the  success  of  those  going  up  "  For  the  help  of  the  Lord,  and 
for  England.'1''  This  battle  call,  ringing  from  men  at  full 
spur,  was  taken  up  even  by  the  old  crones  and  little  chil 
dren,  and  their  shrill  trebles  were  added  to  the  mighty 
shouting  of  strong  men,  whose  heroic  hands  were  already 
tightly  closed  upon  their  sword-hilts.  So,  with  his  ten  thou 
sand  troops  augmented  to  thirty  thousand,  he  reached  War 
wick,  and  making  his  headquarters  at  the  pretty  vil 
lage  of  Keynton  near  by,  he  gave  his  men  time  to  draw 
breath,  and  called  a  council  of  war. 

Cromwell  was  now  on  the  very  ground  where  the  first 
battle  of  the  Civil  War  had  been  fought.  Nine  years  pre 
vious  the  Puritan  camp  had  lain  at  Keynton  with  the  banner 
of  Charles  the  First  waving  in  their  sight  from  the  top  of 
Edgehill.  Outside  the  village  there  was  a  large  farmhouse, 
its  red  tiled  roof  showing  through  the  laden  orchard  trees  ; 
and  the  woman  dwelling  there  gladly  welcomed  Cromwell 
to  rest  and  comfort. 

"All  my  sons  are  with  General  Harrison,"  she  said; 
"  and  I  have  not  seen  their  faces  for  two  years." 

"  Nevertheless,  mistress,"  said  Cromwell,  "  they  shall 
keep  Harvest  Home  with  you,  and  go  out  to  fight  no  more, 
for  the  end  of  the  war  is  near  at  hand."  He  spoke  with 


86  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

the  fervour  of  a  prophet,  but  she  had  not  faith  to  believe,  and 
she  answered  — 

"  My  Lord  Cromwell,  our  Sword  and  our  Saviour,  their 
names  are  Thanet,  James,  and  John,  and  Dickson,  and  Will. 
Surely  you  have  heard  of  them,  dead  or  alive  ?  " 

His  keen  eyes  lost  their  fire  and  were  instantly  full  of 
sadness  as  he  answered,  "  Oh,  woman,  why  did  you  doubt  ? 
If  they  have  fallen  in  battle,  truly  they  are  well.  Judge  not 
otherwise.  Your  blood  and  your  sons'  blood  has  not  run 
to  waste." 

Two  hours  after  this  conversation,  Cluny  Neville  lifted 
the  latch  of  the  farm  gate.  He  had  heard  reliably  of  Crom 
well's  pursuit  of  Charles  at  Newcastle,  and  turning  back 
southward,  had  followed  him  as  closely  as  the  difficulty  of 
getting  horses  in  the  wake  of  the  army  permitted.  He  was 
weary  and  hungry,  but  he  was  at  last  near  the  chief  he 
adored.  He  gave  himself  a  moment  of  anticipation  at  the 
door  of  the  room,  and  then  he  opened  it.  Cromwell  was 
sitting  at  the  upper  end  of  a  long  table.  A  rough  map  of 
the  country  around  Worcester  lay  before  him,  and  Harrison, 
Lambert,  Israel  Swaffham,  and  Lord  Evesham  were  his 
companions.  There  were  two  tallow  candles  on  the  table, 
and  their  light  shone  on  the  face  of  Cromwell.  At  that 
moment  it  was  full  of  melancholy.  He  seemed  to  be  listen 
ing  to  the  noble  fanaticism  of  Harrison,  who  was  talking 
fervidly  of  the  coming  of  the  Kingdom  of  Christ  and  the 
reign  of  the  saints  on  earth  ;  but  he  saw  in  an  instant  the 
entrance  of  Neville,  and  with  an  almost  imperceptible 
movement  commanded  his  approach. 

Neville  laid  the  letters  of  which  he  was  the  bearer  before 
Cromwell,  and  his  large  hand  immediately  covered  them. 
"  Is  all  well  ?  "  he  asked — and  reading  the  answer  in  the 
youth's  face,  added,  "  I  thank  God  !  What  then  of  the  city  ?  " 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  87 

"  Its  panic  is  beyond  describing,"  answered  Neville. 
"  Parliament  is  beside  itself;  even  Bradshaw  is  in  great 
fear  ;  there  are  surmises  as  to  your  good  faith,  my  lord,  and 
the  rumours  and  counter-rumours  are  past  all  believing.  But 
London  is  manifestly  with  the  Commonwealth,  and  every 
man  in  it  is  looking  to  you  and  to  the  army  for  protection. 
Some,  indeed,  I  met  who  had  lost  heart,  and  who  thought 
it  better  that  Charles  Stuart  should  come  back  than  that 
England  should  become  a  graveyard  righting  him." 

"  Such  men  are  suckled  slaves,"  said  Lambert.  "  I  would 
hang  them  without  word  or  warrant  for  it." 

"  Yea,"  said  Cromwell  ;  u  for  Freedom  is  dead  in  them. 
That's  their  fault,  it  will  not  reach  us.  Thousands  of 
Englishmen  have  died  to  crown  our  England  with  Freedom  ; 
for  Freedom  is  not  Freedom  unless  England  be  free  !  " 
Here  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and  the  last  rays  of  the  setting 
sun  fell  across  the  rapture  and  stern  seriousness  of  his  face, 
across  his  shining  mail  and  his  majestic  soldierly  figure. 
His  eyes  blazed  with  spiritual  exaltation,  and  flamed  with 
human  anger,  as  in  a  voice,  sharp  and  untunable,  but  ring 
ing  with  passionate  fervour,  he  cried  — 

"  I  say  to  you,  and  truly  I  mean  it,  if  England's  Red 
Cross  fly  not  above  free  men,  let  it  fall  !  Let  it  fall  o'er 
land  and  sea  forever  !  The  natural  milk  of  Freedom,  the 
wine  and  honey  of  Freedom,  which  John  Eliot  and  John 
Pym  and  John  Hampden  gave  us  to  eat  and  to  drink,  broke 
our  shackles  and  made  us  strong  to  rise  in  the  face  of  for 
sworn  kings  and  red-shod  priests,  devising  our  slavery.  It 
did  indeed  !  And  I  tell  you,  for  I  know  it,  that  with  this 
milk  of  Freedom  England  will  yet  feed  all  the  nations  of 
the  world.  She  will  !  Only  be  faithful,  and  here  and  now, 
God  shall  so  witness  for  us  that  all  men  must  acknowledge 
it.  For  I  do  know  that  Charles  Stuart,  and  the  men  with 


88  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

him,  shall  be  before  us  like  dust  on  a  turning  wheel.  We 
shall  have  a  victory  like  that  of  Saul  over  Nahash,  and  I 
know  not  of  any  victory  like  to  it,  since  the  world  began— 
Two  of  them — not  left  together.  Amen!  But  give  me  leave 
to  say  this  :  In  the  hour  of  victory  it  were  well  for  us  to  re 
member  the  mercy  that  was  in  Saul's  heart,  '  because  that 
day,  the  Lord  had  wrought  salvation  in  Israel.'  From 
here  there  are  two  courses  open  to  us,  a  right  one,  and  a 
wrong  one.  W.iat  say  you,  Lambert?  " 

u  London  is  the  heart  of  the  nation,  and  just  now  it  is  a 
faint  heart.  I  say  it  were  well  to  turn  our  noses  to  London, 
and  to  let  the  rogues  know  we  are  coming." 

"  What  is  your  thought,  Harrison  ?  " 

"  Worcester  is  well  defended,"  he  answered  musingly. 
"  It  has  Wales  behind  it.  We  cannot  fight  Charles  Stuart 
till  we  compass  the  city,  and  to  do  that,  we  must  be  on  both 
sides  of  the  river.  Then  Charles  could  choose  on  which 
side  he  would  fight,  and  we  could  not  come  suddenly  to 
help  each  other." 

"  What  way  look  you,  Israel  ?  " 

"The  way  of  the  enemy.  I  see  that  he  is  here.  What 
hinders  that  we  fight  him  ?  " 

"  Fight  him,"  said  lord  Evesham, "  better  now,  than  later." 

"  Fight  him  !  That,  I  tell  you,  is  my  mind  also,"  said 
Cromwell  striking  the  table  with  his  clinched  hand.  "  Some 
may  judge  otherwise,  but  I  think  while  we  hold  Charles  Stuart 
safe,  London  is  safe  also." 

"  Surely,"  said  Lambert,  "  it  may  be  more  expedient  to 
secure  Charles  Stuart,  but " 

"Expedient,  expedient!"  interrupted  Cromwell.  "Who 
can  make  a  conscience  out  of  expediency  ?  Expediency  says, 
;'/  may  be  ;  Conscience  says,  /'/  is.  If  Worcester  were  ten 
times  as  strong,  I  would  not  hesitate.  God  has  chosen  this 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  89 

battle-field  for  us,  as  He  chose  Dunbar  ;  and  because  the 
place  is  strong,  and  because  it  is  on  both  sides  the  river,  we 
will  draw  closer  and  closer  our  crescent  of  steel  round  it.  We 
will  fight  against  it  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  and  we  will 
expect  that  miracle  of  deliverance  which  will  surely  come, 
for  we  never  yet  found  God  failing,  when  we  trusted  in 
Him.  In  these  parts  we  struck  our  first  blows  for  Freedom, 
and  here,  at  point  and  edge,  we  will  strike  our  last,  and  then 
sheathe  our  s\vorJs.  I  give  my  word  to  you  for  this,  and  I 
will  fully  answer  it.  But  there  must  be  no  slackness.  The 
work  is  to  be  thorough,  and  not  to  do  over  again.  The 

O       '  D 

nation  wishes  it  so,  I  know  it.  The  plain  truth  is — we  will 
march  straight  on  Worcester  ;  we  will  cut  off  Charles  Stuart 
from  all  hope  of  London  ;  we  will  fight  him  from  both  sides 
of  the  river,  and  bring  this  matter  of  the  Stuarts  to  an'end  ; 
for  they  are  the  great  troublers  of  Israel." 

The  man  and  the  time  and  the  place  had  met,  and  there 
was  no  doubting  it.  His  words  burned  this  assurance  into 
the  hearts  of  all  who  heard  him,  and  when  he  struck  his 
sword-hilt  to  emphasise  them,  they  answered  with  the  same 
movement,  unconscious  and  simultaneous. 

In  some  remarkable  way,  this  tremendous  national  crisis 
had  become  known  in  every  corner  of  the  land.  If  the 
great  angel  who  guides  and  guards  the  destinies  of  England 

O  O  C?  O  O 

had  sent  out  a  legion  of  messengers  to  cry  it  from  every 
church  tower,  there  coi:ld  not  have  been  any  more  conscious 
intimation  of  the  final  struggle.  And  the  very  vagueness 
and  mystery  of  the  conviction  intensified  its  importance, 
for  generally  the  information  came  as  the  wind  blows,  no 
one  knew  whence — only  that  the  billows  of  war,  though 
low  and  far  off,  were  heard,  only  that  a  sense  of  presence 
and  movement  not  visible  thrilled  and  informed  men  and 
women  and  brought  them  nearer  to  their  inner  selves  than 


9o  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

they  had  ever  been  before.  Indeed,  there  were  many  whose 
spiritual  senses  were  opened  by  intense  longing  and  fearing, 
and  they  heard  voices  and  saw  portents  and  visions  in  the 
air  above,  yea,  even  on  the  streets  around  them. 

At  Swaffham  and  de  Wick  this  fateful  feeling  was  ag 
gravated  by  keen  personal  interests.  To  Mrs.  Swaffham 
and  Jane  the  coming  battle  might  mean  widowhood  and 
orphanage;  sons  and  brothers  might  be  among  those  ap 
pointed  to  die  for  Freedom's  sake.  To  de  Wick  it  might 
mean  the  extinction  of  the  family,  root  and  branch,  the  loss 
to  the  lonely  Earl  and  his  daughter  of  the  one  love  on 
which  their  future  could  build  any  hope.  They  could  not 
bear  audibly  to  surmise  these  things,  but  they  feared  them ;  and 
not  even  Jane  had  yet  reached  that  far-seeing  faith,  which, 
for  a  noble  end,  levels  life  and  death.  As  the  days  went  on 
they  ceased  their  usual  employments ;  Jane  went  to  the  vil 
lage,  or  even  to  Ely  in  search  of  news,  or  perhaps  half-way 
to  de  Wick  met  Matilda  on  the  same  errand.  Mutual  fears 
drew  them  together ;  they  talked  and  wept  and  encouraged 
each  other,  and  always  parted  with  the  one  whispered  word 
— "  To-morrow" 

At  length  there  came  a  day  when  the  unnatural  tension 
grew  to  its  cruel  ripeness.  The  soft  gray  autumn  morn 
ing  was  sensitive  through  every  pulse  of  Nature,  and  as  the 
day  wore  on  a  strange  still  gloom  hung  far  and  wide  over 
the  country.  The  very  breath  of  calamity  was  in  it.  Pur 
itan  and  Royalist  alike  went  to  the  open  churches  to  pray  ; 
tradesmen  left  their  wares  and  stood  talking  and  watching 
the  highways ;  women  wandered  about  their  homes  weep 
ing  and  praying  inaudibly,  or  they  let  their  anxieties  fret 
them  like  a  lash.  The  next  morning  the  west  wind  blew 
the  sorrow  in  the  air,  far-off  to  sea  ;  but  left  an  instanta 
neous,  penetrating  sense  of  something  being  "all  over." 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  91 

Whatever  deed  had  been  done,  England  would  soon  ring 
with  it. 

On  the  third  afternoon,  there  came  rumours  of  a  great 
Parliamentary  victory,  rumours  that  Charles  Stuart  had  been 
slain  in  battle,  suppositions  and  surmises  innumerable  and 
contradictory.  Jane  went  as  quickly  as  possible  to  dc 
Wick,  for  if  indeed  there  had  been  a  Royalist  defeat, 
Stephen  de  Wick  might  have  reached  home  and  life  was 
hardly  to  be  borne,  unless  some  certainty  relieved  the  ten 
sion  cutting  like  a  tight  thong  her  heart  and  brain. 

The  neglect  and  desolation  of  de  Wick  Park  had  in  it 
something  unusual :  it  was  that  strange  air  of  sorrow,  new  and 
unaccepted,  which  insists  on  recognition.  It  hurried  Jane's 
steps  ;  she  felt  sure  she  was  either  going  to  meet  trouble 
or  that  trouble  was  following  after  her.  When  she  reached 
the  house,  there  were  two  horses  tied,  and  even  two  horses 
were  a  strange  sight,  now,  at  that  door  where  once  there 
had  been  all  day  long  the  noise  and  hurry  of  sportsmen, 
and  of  coming  and  going  guests.  She  entered  the  hall  and 
saw  a  man  in  his  stockinged  feet  softly  descending  the 
stairs.  She  knew  his  name  and  his  occupation,  and  her 
heart  stood  still  with  fear.  The  next  moment  Delia  came 
forward,  and  Jane  said, 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  back,  Delia.  Is  Lady  Ma 
tilda  well  ?  Is  any  one  ill  ?  O  Delia,  what  is  the 
matter  ?  Why  are  you  crying  ?  And  why  is  Jabez  Clay 
here  ? " 

"  The  priest  is  dead.      Clay  has  been  measuring  him." 

"  Dead  !  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  He  dropped  dead  when  he  heard  of  the 
fight — and  the  King's  death." 

"Then  you  have  news  ?  " 

"  The  worst   news   that  could  come.     No  one  has  seen 


92  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

the  King  since  the  battle — all  is  lost — Audrey's  Ben  is  back 
skin-whole,  but  he  says " 

"  Is  that  you,  Jane  Swaffham  ?  "  cried  Matilda,  running 
down-stairs.  "  Come  here,  come  here,  come  here  !  "  and 
seizing  her  by  the  arm,  she  compelled  Jane  to  ascend  at 
her  side.  As  for  Matilda,  she  was  like  a  woman  distraught. 
Grief  and  anger  burned  white  in  her  face,  her  eyes  blazed, 
her  speech  was  shrill,  her  manner  like  one  possessed.  Jane 
made  no  resistance  to  such  impetuous,  imperative  passion, 
and  she  was  hurried  up  the  steps  and  along  the  corridor 
until  Matilda  suddenly  stopped  and  threw  open  the  door  of 
a  darkened  room. 

"  Go  in,  Mistress  Swaffham,"  she  cried,  "and  look  your 
last  on  one  of  Cromwell's  victims."  And  Jane  shook  her 
self  free,  and  stood  a  moment  regarding  the  placid  face  of 
the  dead  priest.  He  was  wrapped  in  his  winding  sheet, 
the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  lay  on  his  breast,  and  his 
hands  were  clasped  over  it. 

"  Oh,  God  be  merciful !  "  said  Jane,  and  Matilda  an 
swered,  "  Yes,  for  men  know  nothing  of  mercy.  Come, 
there  is  more  yet." 

Then  she  opened  the  door  next  to  the  death  chamber, 
and  Jane  saw  lying  on  a  great  canopied  bed  the  dying  Earl. 
His  last  breaths  were  coming  in  painful  sobs,  but  he 
opened  his  eyes  and  looked  mournfully  at  Jane  for  a  few 
moments.  Then  the  physician  sitting  by  his  side  motioned 
authoritatively  to  the  two  girls  to  leave  the  room. 

"  He  is  dying.  You  see  that.  He  may  live  till  morning 
—no  longer,"  said  Matilda ;  "  he  is  only  waiting  to  see 
Stephen,  and  Stephen  will  never  come.  Ben  said  he  was 
with  the  King's  horse,  and  the  King  is  slain,  and  all  is  red 
ruin  and  sorrow  without  end.  When  you  rise  to-morrow 
morning,  you  can  tell  yourself  Matilda  de  Wick  is  mother- 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  93 

less,  fatherless,  brotherless,  friendless,  and  homeless;  and  I 
dare  say  you  will  add  piously,  '  It  is  the  Lord's  doing ' ;  but  it 
is  not  the  Lord's  doing,  it  is  Oliver  Cromwell's  work.  I 
would  walk  every  step  of  the  way  to  London  if  I  might  see 
him  hung  when  I  got  there  ! " 

"  Indeed,  Matilda,  you  are  cruel  to  say  such  things. 
You  are  neither  friendless  nor  homeless." 

"  Indeed,  I  am  in  both  cases.  I  will  have  no  friends 
that  are  partners  in  Cromwell's  crimes,  and  if  Stephen  be 
dead,  de  Wick  goes  only  in  the  male  line,  and  there  is  not 
a  male  left  to  our  name.  Cromwell  and  his  Parliament  may 
as  well  take  house  and  lands  ;  they  have  slain  all  who  can 
hold  them — all,  Reginald,  Roland,  Stephen,  my  Uncle  Rob 
ert,  my  cousins  Rufus  and  Edward  !  What  wonder  that 
Julian  Sacy's  heart  broke,  and  that  my  father  only  waits  at 
the  door  of  Death  to  say  good-bye  to  Stephen." 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  dear  ?     Oh,  what  can  I  do  ?  " 
"  I  will  have  nothing  from  you,  not  even  pity,  while  you 
endure,  yes,  even  admire,  this  monster  of  cruelty,  Oliver 
Cromwell." 

"  Cruelty  is  far  from  him.      He  has  the  heart  of  a  child." 
"  He  is  a  very  demon.    He  has  drenched  England  in  blood." 
"  He  has  done  nothing  of  the   kind.     Why  did  Charles 
Stuart    invade    England  ?     What   right   had   he  to   do   so  ? 
England    is    not    his    private  estate.      England   belongs  to 
Englishmen.     No,  I  will  not  talk  on  this  subject  with  you. 
When  you  are  in   reason  send   for  me,  and  I  will  do  any 
thing,  anything,  that  my  heart  and  hands  can  do." 

"  I  will  not  send  for  you.  I  never  wish  to  see  your  face 
again.  And  how  poor  Stephen  loved  you  !  And  you — you 
have  not  a  tear  for  his  fate.  I  thank  God  I  am  not  of 
your  profession.  I  can  weep  for  the  death  of  those  who 
loved  me." 


94  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

With  these  words  Matilda  turned  sobbing  away,  and  Jane, 
slowly  at  first  and  then  hastily,  took  the  road  to  Swaffham. 
For  after  she  had  decided  that  it  was  best  not  to  force  her 
company  on  her  distracted  friend,  she  remembered  that  the 
news  which  had  reached  de  Wick  was  probably  at  Swaff- 
ham.  It  might  also  have  come  there  with  a  tale  of  death  and 
danger,  and  her  mother  be  needing  her  help  and  comfort. 
So  she  made  all  possible  haste,  and  as  soon  as  she  reached 
Swaffham  she  was  aware  of  a  change.  The  servants  were 
running  about  with  unusual  alacrity,  and  there  was  a  sense 
of  hurry  and  confusion.  As  soon  as  Jane  spoke,  her 
mother  came  quickly  towards  her.  Her  look  was  flurried, 
but  not  unhappy,  as  she  cried,  "  Have  you  the  news, 
Jane  ?  'Tis  the  greatest  victory  that  hath  ever  been  in 
England.  Dr.  Verity  came  an  hour  ago,  so  tired  he  could 
scarcely  sit  his  horse.  He  has  had  a  warm  drink  and  sleeps, 
but  he  says  no  victory  was  ever  like  it." 

"  And  my  father  and  brothers  ?  What  of  them  ?  " 
"  Your  father  is  well ;  Tonbert  and  Will  have  some 
slight  sword  cuts.  Cymlin  has  taken  them  to  London,  and 
Dr.  Marvel  will  see  to  their  wounds.  We  must  be  ready 
to  go  with  Dr.  Verity  to  London  on  Tuesday  morning. 
Your  father  desires  it." 

"  I  heard  at  de  Wick  that  Charles  Stuart  is  slain." 
"  Dr.  Verity  believes  not  such  a  report.  He  says,  how 
ever,  that  the  war  is  over.  The  Royalists  have  now 
neither  army  nor  leader.  Now,  Jane,  make  some  haste. 
Put  carefully  away  what  is  to  be  left;  and  pack  a  small  box 
with  such  clothing  as  you  must  take  with  you.  Joslyn,  the 
carrier,  will  bring  the  rest.  To-morrow,  being  Sabbath,  we 
can  do  nothing  towards  our  journey,  but  on  Monday  all 
must  be  finished." 

It  troubled  Jane  that  there  was  so  little  sense  of  triumph. 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  95 

"The  greatest  victory  that  had  ever  been  in  England"  ap 
peared  quite  a  secondary  thing  to  Mrs.  Swaffham  in  com 
parison  with  the  hurried  journey  to  London,  and  all  it 
implied.  An  unspeakable  fear  had  been  lifted  from  every 
heart,  and  yet,  instead  of  the  great  rejoicing  which  would 
have  been  fit  and  natural,  there  was  a  little  ennui  and  for- 
getfulness — a  feeling  which  if  it  had  found  words  might 
have  said,  "  There,  now,  the  trouble  is  over.  We  have 
felt  all  we  can  feel.  We  would  rather  sit  down  and  cry  a 
little  than  shout  to  the  church  bells  clanging:  all  over  En?- 

o      o  o 

land.  We  have  given  of  ourselves  freely  while  need  was, 
now  the  need  is  over,  let  us  alone." 

Such  an  appearance  of  ingratitude  troubled  Jane  in  her 
very  soul.  Cromwell  so  eagerly  looked  for,  so  mighty  to 
help,  had  not  been  even  named.  "What  ingrates  mortals 
are  !  "  she  thought  bitterly, "  what  ingrates  both  to  God  and 
man.  Yet  had  my  father  been  here,  he  would  have  called 
the  house  together  and  thanked  God  for  His  help  by  the 
hand  of  Oliver  Cromwell." 

To  such  thoughts  she  worked  rapidly.  Her  little  box 
was  soon  packed,  her  room  put  in  order,  and  she  was 
beginning  to  wonder  if  Dr.  Verity's  sleep  was  delaying 
supper,  when  there  was  a  sharp,  impatient  knock  at  the 
door.  Before  she  could  in  any  way  answer  it,  Matilda 
de  Wick  entered  and  threw  herself  on  her  knees  at  Jane's 
side. 

"You  said  you  would  help  me,"  she  cried;  "you  said  you 
would,  with  heart  and  hands  !  Now,  Jane,  keep  your  word  ! 
It  is  life  o'r  death  !  Have  pity  on  me  !  Have  pity  on  me  !  " 

"  What  is  it,  Matilda  ?      What  is  it  you  wish  ?  " 

"  It  is  Stephen  ;  it  is  his  friend  Hugh  Belward.  They 
are  searching  de  Wick  for  them  now.  I  have  brought 
them  to  vou.  Father  told  me  to  come  here.  I  could  go 


96  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

nowhere  else,  I  had  no  time.  Jane,  for  God's  sake  save 
them  ;  not  for  my  sake,  not  for  pity's  sake,  but  for  God's 
sake  save  them  !  They  are  now  outside  this  door — they 
may  be  seen  by  some  servant — let  them  enter — may  I  open 
the  door?  Jane,  speak.  There  is  not  a  moment  to  lose. 
The  men  seeking  them  may  be  on  their  way  here — Jane, 
Jane  !  Why  don't  you  let  them  in  ?  You  said  you  would 
help  me  !  Oh,  for  God's  dear  sake  !  " 

"  How  can  I  do  what  you  ask  me,  Matilda?  Think  of 
what  you  ask " 

"  I  know  ;  I  ask  life  for  two  poor  souls  ready  to  perish. 
One  of  them  loves  you — Jane,  speak — why  are  you  wait 


ing 


"  My  father — my  brothers — and  in  this  room  ? — My 
own  room  ? " 

"The  more  sure  sanctuary.  Be  not  too  nice,  when  too 
much  niceness  may  be  murder.  Jane,  there  is  no  time  to 
talk.  Let  them  through  the  door." 

"  I  will  call  mother,"  she  said ;  "  let  them  in  until  I 
bring  her  here."  Then  she  opened  the  door,  and  Matilda 
brought  the  two  wayworn,  blood-stained,  fainting  fugitives 
within  the  sanctuary. 

Mrs.  Swaffham  was  not  long  in  answering  Matilda's  pe 
tition.  That  divine  compassion  that  oversteps  every  ob 
stacle,  and  never  asks  who  or  what  art  thou,  saw  the  visible 
necessity  and  hastened  to  meet  it. 

"Surely,  surely,  my  poor  lads,"  she  said  pitifully,"  I  will 
find  hiding  for  you." 

"  God  Himself  thank  you,  madame."  sobbed  Matilda. 
"  Father  said  you  would.  He  told  me  to  bring  the  boys  to 
you,  and  I  brought  them  through  the  fields  and  under  the 
hedges.  No  one  has  seen  them  ;  it  was  nearly  dark,"  she 
said  hysterically. 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  97 

"  Yes,  dearie,  and  Will  shall  saddle  a  horse  and  take  you 
home." 

"  No,  no,  no  !  It  would  then  be  known  I  had  come 
here  in  the  dark ;  and  the  servants  would  ask  what  for,  and 
suspect  the  truth.  No  one  must  know.  I  can  find  my 
way — and  I  must  now  go." 

"  Tell  your  father  that  they  who  would  hurt  the  young 
men  must  hurt  me  first." 

"  It  will  he  the  greatest,  the  last,  comfort  he  can  have  in 
this  world."  Then  she  kissed  her  brother,  and  with  a 
glance  of  farewell  pity  at  his  companion,  went  quickly  and 
quietly  away. 

"  Go  down-stairs,  Jane,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham,  "and  if 
Dr.  Verity  is  waiting,  order  supper  to  be  served.  Tell  him 
not  to  wait  on  my  necessities,  which  are  many,  with  so 
much  packing  and  putting  away  to  look  after.  Keep  men 
and  maids  busy  on  the  ground  floor,  and  the  east  side.  I 
will  bestow  our  friends  in  the  oak  room,  on  the  west  side 
of  the  house." 

To  this  room  she  took  them,  and  then  brought  water  and 
wine  and  bread  and  meat,  and  some  of  her  son's  clothing, 
showing  them,  also,  that  the  wide  chimney  had  been  pre 
pared  for  such  emergencies  by  having  stout,  firm,  iron 
stirrups  placed  right  and  left  at  very  short  intervals.  "  By 
these  you  can  easily  reach  the  roof,"  she  said  ;  "  Dr.  Verity 
did  so  once,  when  Laud's  men  were  seeking  him.  But  I 
think  no  Parliament  soldiers  will  search  Israel  Swaffham's 
house  for  succored  malignants.  To-night  and  to-morrow 
you  can  rest  and  sleep  ;  I  will  waken  you  very  early  Mon 
day  morning,  and  you  can  go  to  de  Wick  for  your  horses, 
ere  any  one  is  astir."  She  kissed  them  both  and  poured 
out  wine  and  made  them  drink,  and  then,  looking  carefully 
to  see  that  no  chink  in  shutters  or  door  let  out  a  glimpse 


98  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

of  candle-light,  left  them  to  eat  and  rest.  Her  heart 
was  light,  and  she  had  no  sense  of  wrong-doing,  although 
Stephen  had  warned  her  that  Parliament  had  issued  an  order 
threatening  all  who  sheltered  royalists  with  fine  and  im 
prisonment. 

41  Parliament's  orders  are  well  enough,"  she  said  to  her 
self  as  she  stepped  rapidly  and  lightly  away  from  the  scene 
of  her  disobedience,  "  well  enough,  but  I  think  far  more  of 
the  orders  of  the  King  of  kings,  and  He  tells  me  if  my 
enemy  hunger  to  feed  him  and  give  him  drink,  and  of  course 
shelter  and  clothing — the  oil  and  the  twopence — the  oil  for 
his  visible  wants,  and  the  twopence  for  the  wants  not  seen. 
I  must  not  forget  the  twopence.  Thank  God,  I  can  spare 
a  few  pounds  for  the  poor  lads  !  "  And  her  face  was  so  happy 
in  the  thought  that  she  seemed  to  bring  sunshine  into  the 
parlour,  where  she  found  Dr.  Verity  eating  a  beefsteak 
pudding  and  talking  to  Jane,  who  sat  with  a  white  and 
anxious  face  trying  to  smile  and  answer  him. 

"  Come  and  rest  a  little,  Martha,"  he  said,  "  I  am  not  to 
halve  a  day." 

"  But  I  am,  Doctor.     I  want  to  see  to  my  boys'  wounds." 

"  Wounds  !  Pshaw  !  Scratches  !  They  will  be  in  armour 
to  enter  London  when  Cromwell  does.  And  what  think 
you  ?  Here  come  a  half-a-dozen  riders  awhile  ago,  seeking 
young  de  Wick.  They  said  also  that  it  was  thought 
Charles  Stuart  might  be  with  him,  and  they  would  have 
searched  SwafFham — high  and  low — if  I  had  not  been  here. 
I  vouched  my  word  for  no  Stuart  or  de  Wick  in  Swaffham, 
and  told  them  the  whole  house  was  upside  down,  men  and 
maids  in  every  room,  and  you  and  Jane  packing  for  London. 
And  the  rascals  didn't  take  my  word,  but  went  to  the 
kitchen  and  asked  Tom  and  Dick  and  Harry  and  all  the 
wenches,  and  so  satisfied  themselves." 


SHEATHED  SWORDS 


99 


"  The  impudent  varlets,"  said  Mrs.  SwafFham,  "  to  set 
your  word  at  naught.  I  wish  that  you  had  called  me." 

"  I  told  them  when  they  hummed  and  hawed  to  'light  from 
their  horses  and  go  through  the  house,  and  Jane  said, 
4  Surely,  sirs,  Dr.  Verity  will  go  with  you  ; '  and  then  I  let 
them  have  the  rough  side  of  my  tongue,  and  said,  '  I'd  do 
no  such  mean  business  as  search  Captain  Israel  Swaffham's 
house  for  royalists,  and  he  and  his  three  sons  fighting  them 
on  every  battle-field  in  England  and  Scotland.  Not  I  !  '  So 
they  went  their  ways  to  the  kitchen,  and  learned  nothing  to 
what  I  told  them  ;  but  they  got  a  drink  of  ale,  which  was 
likely  what  they  wanted.  But  if  Charles  Stuart  had  been 
here  I  would  have  gladly  led  the  way  to  him,  for  I  like  well 
to  betray  a  man  who  deceives  and  betrays  all  men." 

"  You  would  not,  Dr.  Verity,"  said  Jane.  "  I  know  you 
better  than  your  words.  You  would  have  put  him  on  your 
own  big  horse,  and  put  money  in  his  hand,  and  said,  Fly  ! 
I  am  not  thy  executioner." 

"  I  say,  No,  downright." 

u  I  say,  Yes,"  affirmed  Mrs.  SwafFham.  "  In  the  heart 
of  battle  perhaps  No,  but  if  he  came  to  you  after  the  battle 
and  begged  for  mercy,  you  would  think  of  the  reproach  our 
Lord  Christ  gave  to  the  unmerciful  steward — shouldst  not 
thou  also  have  had  compassion  on  thy  fellow-servant  even 
as  I  had  pity  on  thee." 

"  You  argue  like  a  woman,  Martha.  There  is  the 
example  of  Jael." 

"  I  wouldn't  do  what  Jael  did  if  England's  crown  was 
for  it.  There  is  not  an  Englishwoman  living,  not  one 
living,  who  would  play  Jael.  If  Charles  Stuart  has  g;>t 
away  from  battle,  he  has  got  away  ;  and  if  you  are  looking 
to  Englishwomen  to  betray  a  poor  soul  in  extremities, 
Charles  Stuart  may  live  to  be  King  of  England  yet." 


ICO 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


"You  are  making  a  wicked  and  impossible  suggestion, 
Martha." 

"  No  more  wicked  and  impossible  than  that  there  is 
another  Jael  in  England.  There  is  not  !  " 

"  Don't  flare  up  in  that  way,  Martha.  Thank  God,  we 
are  neither  of  us  yet  called  upon  to  decide  such  a  question 
as  Charles  Stuart's  life  or  death.  But  he  might  come  here ; 
the  courage  of  despair  may  bring  him.  What  would  you 
do  ?  " 

"  You  are  here,  and  I  would  leave  you  to  answer  that 
question  for  me." 

"  Well,  I  wish  he  would  come.  There  is  danger  while 
he  is  hiding  here  and  there  in  the  country.  What  good  is 
it  to  quench  the  fire  in  the  chimney  if  it  be  scattered  about 
the  house  ?  I  think  we  will  begin  our  journey  to  London  on 
Monday  morning,  Martha." 

"  I  cannot.  If  I  had  as  many  hands  as  fingers,  I  could 
not.  You  may  keep  watch  and  ward  to-morrow  and  Mon 
day,  and  it  may  be  well  to  do  so  ;  for  to  tell  the  truth,  I 
trust  neither  men  nor  maids  in  the  kitchen.  For  a  Parlia 
ment  half-crown  they  would  hide  the  devil.  When  was 
this  great  battle  of  Worcester  fought  ?  " 

"  Last  Wednesday,  on  the  third  day  of  this  month." 

"  Mother,  remember  how  sad  we  were  all  that  day.  You 
said  to  me,  '  Jane,  there  is  death  in  the  air  ;  '  and  the  men 
could  not  work,  and  they  vowed  the  beasts  trembled  and 
were  not  to  guide  or  to  hold." 

"  The  third  of  September  !  "  said  Mrs.  Swaffham,  "that 
was  Dunbar  day.  A  great  victory  was  Dunbar  !  " 

"  Worcester  was  a  greater  victory  ;  and  there  will  be 
one  more  third  of  September,  the  greatest  victory  of  all. 
But  where  it  will  be,  and  over  what  enemy,  only  God 
knows." 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  101 

"  When  did  the  Worcester  battle  begin  ?  "   asked  Jane. 

"  About  four  in  the  afternoon.  It  was  a  fair  day,  the 
sun  shone  brightly  over  the  old  city,  with  its  red-tiled  roofs, 
its  orchards  and  gardens  and  hop  fields,  and  over  the  noble 
river  and  long  line  of  the  green  Malvern  hills  a  few  miles 
away.  And  the  Royalist  army  made  a  grand  show  with 
their  waving  cloaks  and  plumes,  their  gay  silk  banners,  and 
their  shouts  of  For  God  and  King  !  But  they  were  as  stub 
ble  before  steel  when  Cromwell's  iron  men  faced  them  with 
their  stern  answering  shout  of  God  With  Us  !  It  was  a 
stiff  business,  but  indeed  God  was  with  us.  As  for  Crom 
well,  he  was  so  highly  transported  that  scarce  one  dared 
speak  to  him.  Wherever  he  led,  a  great  passion,  like  to  a 
tempestuous  wind,  seized  the  men,  and  they  crowded  and 
rushed  the  enemy  from  street  to  street,  shouting  as  they  did 
so  psalms  of  victory.  Yes,  Martha,  yes,  Jane,  rushed 
them  as  the  devil  rushed  the  demon-haunted  hogs  into  the 
sea  of  Galilee.  Oh,  I  tell  you,  Cromwell !  our  Cromwell  ! 
is  always  grand,  but  never  so  mighty  as  when  on  horse 
back  in  front  of  his  army.  Then  you  look  at  the  man, 
and  thank  God  for  him." 

"  And  the  battle  began  at  four  ?  I  remember  hearing 
Swaffham  church  strike  that  hour.  I  stood  in  a  wretched 
mood  at  the  door  and  counted  the  strokes.  They  had  a 
fateful  sound." 

"  We  had  been  at  work  all  day,  but  at  that  hour  we  had 
two  bridges  over  the  Severn,  and  Cromwell  with  half  the 
army  passed  over  them  to  the  west  side  of  the  city.  He 
rode  in  front,  and  was  the  first  man  to  cross.  Pitscottie's 
Highlandmen  were  waiting  for  him,  and  he  drove  them  at 
push  of  pike  from  hedge  to  hedge  till  they  were  cut  to 
pieces,  every  man's  son  of  them,  one  on  the  heels  of  the 
other.  And  when  Charles  Stuart  saw  this  battle  raging  on 


102  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

the  west  side  of  the  river,  he  attacked  the  troops  that  had 
been  left  with  Lambert  on  the  east  side.  Right  glad  was 
Lambert,  and  'tis  said  that  the  Stuart  behaved  very  gallantly 
and  broke  a  regiment  of  militia ;  and  the  troops,  being 
mostly  volunteers,  began  to  waver.  But  Cromwell  saw 
this  new  attack  at  once,  and  he  and  Desborough  and  Cob- 
bett  came  rattling  over  the  bridges  of  boats.  No  dismay 
when  Cromwell  was  there  !  His  voice  and  presence  meant 
victory  !  The  malignants,  with  their  Scotch  allies,  re 
treated  before  him  into  Worcester  streets,  Cromwell's  men 
after  them  pell-mell.  Women,  it  was  then  hell  let  loose, 
for  by  this  time  it  was  nearly  dark,  and  the  narrow  streets 
were  lit  only  by  the  flashes  of  the  great  and  small  shot. 
Cromwell  rode  up  and  down  them,  in  the  midst  of  the 
fire  ;  he  took  Fort  Royal  from  the  enemy,  and  with  his 
own  hands  fired  its  guns  upon  them  as  they  fled  hither  and 
thither,  they  knew  not,  in  their  terror  and  despair,  where. 
Every  street  in  Worcester  was  full  of  fire  and  blood,  the 
rattle  of  artillery,  the  shouts  of  our  captains,  the  shrieks  of 
the  dying.  All  night  the  sack  of  the  city  went  on.  It  was 
a  tenfold  Drogheda,  and  ever  since,  by  day  and  night,  Lam 
bert  has  been  following  the  flying  enemy,  hunting  and 
slaying  them  in  every  highway  and  hiding-place.  Oh,  in 
deed,  the  faces  of  our  foes  have  been  brought  down  to 
earth  and  their  mouths  filled  with  dust ;  and  rightly  so.  No 
one  will  ever  know  the  number  slain,  and  we  have  ten 
thousand  prisoners." 

"  Was  such  cruelty  necessary  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Swaffham. 

"  War  is  cruel,  Martha  ;  a  battle  would  not  be  a  battle 
unless  it  was  cruel — furiously  cruel.  What  is  the  use  of 
striking  soft  in  battle  ?  The  work  is  to  do  over  again.  A 
cruel  war  is  in  the  end  a  merciful  war." 

"  It  is  said  Charles  Stuart  is  slain." 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  103 

u  I  don't  believe  that  report,  it  has  been  spread  by  his 
friends  to  favour  his  escape.  At  first  he  was  distracted,  and 
went  about  asking  some  one  to  slay  him  ;  but  he  was  seen 
afterwards  beyond  the  pates  of  Worcester,  moving  eastward 

J  tD  '  O 

with  a  number  of  his  adherents.  David  Leslie  may  be 
slain.  I  saw  him  riding  slowly  up  and  down  like  a  man 
who  had  lost  his  senses.  I  could  have  shot  him  easily — but 
I  did  not." 

"  Thank  God,  Doctor  !  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  Martha.  I'm  not  sure  in  my 
own  mind  about  letting  the  old  traitor  go.  But  his  white 
hair,  his  bloody  face,  and  his  demented  look  stayed  my 
hand.  He  had  left  his  bridle  fall,  his  horse  was  trembling 
in  every  limb  ;  the  old  man  did  not  know  what  he  was  do 
ing,  he  had  lost  his  senses.  Yet  David  Leslie  ought  to  have 
been  shot — only,  I  could  not  shoot  him  ;  he  fought  at  my 
side — once.  God  forgive  him !  Martha,  I  have  had 
enough  of  war.  I  thank  God  it  is  over." 

"  But  is  it  over  ?  " 

"  Cromwell  says  so,  and  I  believe  him.  When  a  man 
walks  with  God  as  closely  as  Cromwell  does,  he  knows 
many  things  beyond  ordinary  knowledge.  I  saw  him 
about  ten  o'clock.  He  had  written  then  a  few  lines  to  his 
wife  and  family,  and  was  writing  to  the  Parliament.  And 
what  did  he  say  in  that  letter?  Did  he  praise  himself? 
No  !  He  was  bold  humbly  to  beg  that  all  the  glory  might 
be  given  to  God,  who  had  wrought  so  great  a  salvation. 
When  he  had  sealed  and  sent  off  these  letters — by  Lord 
Cluny  Neville,  Mistress  Jane — he  lifted  his  sword,  red 
from  the  hilt  to  the  point,  and  wiped  it  upon  a  Royalist 
flag  lying  near  him.  Then  he  dropped  the  blade  into  the 
sheathe  with  a  clang,  and  said,  '  Truly  thou  hast  had  thy 
last  bloody  supper.  Rest  now,  thy  work  is  done  ! ' 


104  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"Truly,  I  know  not  what  work.''  said  Mrs.  Swaffham. 
l.1 1  see  only  death  and  destruction." 

"  Martha,  suppose  Charles  Stuart  had  conquered  at 
Worcester,  and  that  he  had  marched  on  London  and  been 
received  there  as  the  conqueror  of  a  rebellious  people,  what 
would  follow  ?  " 

" 1  know  not,  nor  does  any  man  or  woman  know." 

"  I  can  tell  you.  Our  Protestant  faith  and  our  civil  lib 
erty  would  be  taken  from  us  ;  for  the  latter  depends  on 
the  former,  and  all  we  have  done  since  1640  would  be  to 
do  over  again.  Jericho  has  fallen,  would  you  rebuild  it  ?  " 

"  All  I  want  is  peace." 

"  That  we  shall  now  have.  Our  steel  bodies,  that  have 
galled  us  long  with  the  wearing  of  them,  may  be  cast  off; 
our  men  will  return  to  their  homes  and  their  daily  work, 
and  our  worship  shall  never  more  be  broken  up,  but  our 
Sabbaths  be  full  of  good  things." 

"  If  we  love  God,  I  wonder  if  it  makes  so  much  difference 
how  we  worship  Him  ?  " 

"  I  am  astonished  at  you,  Martha." 

"  I  am  astonished  likewise  at  all  the  sorrow  and  blood- 
shedding  about  surplices  and  chasubles  and  written  prayers 
and  such  things." 

O 

"  My  dear  mother  !  "      . 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Jane,  it  is  so;  and  I  was  astonished  when 
I  was  a  girl  and  saw  my  father  go  to  poverty  and  prison 
for  such  trifles.  Yes,  I  say  trifles — and  I  am  a  Puritan 
minister's  child,  and  not  ashamed  of  it — and  my  husband 
and  sons  have  been  taken  from  me,  and  my  household  left 
for  the  battle-field,  and  I  know  not  what  sorrows  and 
trials " 

"  Come,  come,  Martha,  you  are  tired  and  fretted.  If  we 
believe  in  a  great  and  terrible  God,  how  we  are  most  accept- 


"THEN  HE  DROPPED  HIS  BLADE  INTO  THE  SHEATHE  WITH  A 
CLANG." 


SHEATHED  SWORDS  105 

ably  to  worship  Him  is  not  a  trifling  thing;  far  from  it ! 
I  tell  you  both,  the  form  of  worship  we  have  in  England 
measures  our  civil  liberty.  If  we  submit  to  spiritual  slavery, 
any  king  or  queen  or  successful  soldier  may  make  us  civil 
slaves.  Now  let  the  subject  drop ;  the  war  is  over,  we  will 
think  of  peace." 

"  Peace  conies  too  late  for  many  a  family.  There  are 
the  de  Wicks." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  them,  and  I  could  be  sorrier  if  they  had 
suffered  for  the  right  instead  of  the  wrong.  What  will  the 
young  Lady  Matilda  do  after  her  father's  death  ?  " 

"  I  know  not  what,  with  any  surety." 

"  Her  aunt,  Lady  Jevery,  has  been  written  for,  more  than 
a  week  ago.  She  may  be  at  de  Wick  even  now.  I  think 
Matilda  will  make  her  home  with  the  Jeverys." 

"  Then  she  goes  to  London.  I  know  their  great  house 
near  Drury  Lane.  It  has  very  fine  gardens  indeed.  I  be 
lieve  the  Jeverys  are  under  suspicion,  Martha,  as  very  hot 
malignants.  And  now,  Jane,  dear  little  Jane,  listen  to  me. 
You  are  going  to  the  great  city,  to  Whitehall  Palace,  to 
Hampton  Court,  to  the  splendour  and  state  of  a  great 
nation.  You  will  be  surrounded  by  military  pomp  and  civil 
glory  and  social  pride  and  vanity.  Dear  little  girl,  keep 
yourself  unspotted  from  the  world  !  " 

"  May  God  help  me,  sir." 

"  And  let  not  the  tale  of  love  beguile  you.  Young 
Harry  Cromwell,  gallant  and  good,  will  be  there ;  and  Lord 
Neville,  with  his  long  pedigree  and  beautiful  face ;  and 
officers  in  scarlet  and  gold,  and  godly,  eloquent  preachers 
in  black  and  white,  and  foreign  nobles,  and  men  of  all 
kinds  and  degrees.  And  'tis  more  than  likely  many  will 
tell  you  that  Jane  Swaff  ham  is  fair  beyond  all  other  women, 
and  vow  their  hearts  and  lives  to  your  keeping.  Then, 


io6  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Jane,  in  such  hours  of  temptation,  be  low  and  humble 
towards  God.  Go  often  to  the  assembling  of  the  saints 
and  catch  the  morning  dew  and  celestial  rain  of  their 
prayers  and  praise.  Then,  Jane,  cry  all  the  more  earnestly 
— '  Tell  me,  oh  Thou  whom  my  soul  loveth  ' — my  soul^ 
Jane — '  where  Thou  feedest,  where  Thou  makest  Thy  flocks 
to  rest  at  noon.'  And  no  doubt  you  will  add  to  this  inquiry 
its  sweet  closing — '  He  brought  me  to  the  banqueting-house, 
and  His  banner  over  me  was  love.' ' 

And  Jane  smiled  gratefully,  and  her  eyes  were  dim  with 
tears  as  she  laid  her  hands  in  Doctor  Verity's  to  clasp  her 
promise.  Yet  when  she  reached  her  room  and  sat  quiet  in 
its  solitude,  no  one  will  blame  her  because  many  thoughts 
of  love  and  hope  blended  themselves  with  the  piteous  ones 
she  sent  to  de  Wick,  and  to  the  two  weary  fugitives  under 
Swaffham  roof.  She  was  pleased  at  the  thought  of  Harry 
Cromwell,  but  oh  !  what  a  serious  happiness,  what  a  flush 
of  maiden  joy  transfigured  her  face  when  she  thought  of 
her  lover,  forecasting  rose-winged  hours  for  him  to  glorify. 
And  in  her  soul's  pure  sanctuary  she  whispered  his  name 
while  her  eyes  dreamed  against  the  goal  of  their  expected 
meeting.  For  Love  gives  Hope  to  the  true  and  tender,  but 
counts  a  cold  heart  a  castaway. 


BOOK  II 

The   Tools   To   Those  Who  Can  Handle 
Them  ! 


CHAPTER   VI 

ON    THE    TIDE    TOP 
"  Cromwell !   Why  that's  the  name  of  Victory." 

"  The  shouting  cries 
Of  the  pleased  people,  rend  the  vaulted  skies." 

"  Let  there  be  music.      Let  the  Master  touch 
The  solemn  organ,  and  soft  breathing  flute." 

"  Rupert !   Oh  there's  music  in  the  name, 
Repeated  as  a  charm  to  ease  my  grief. 
I,  that  loved  name  did  as  some  god  invoke  ; 
And  printed  kisses  on  it  as  I  spoke." 

THE  great  day  of  triumph  was  over.  Cromwell  had 
entered  London  at  the  head  of  his  victorious  army,  and  the 
city  was  safe  and  jubilant.  Standing  at  her  mother's  side, 
Jane  had  witnessed  from  a  window  in  the  crowded 
Strand  the  glorious  pageant  of  Liberty,  the  martial  vision  of 
warriors  whose  faces  had  been  bathed  in  that  rain  that  falls 
on  battle-fields,  red  as  the  rains  of  hell ;  she  had  seen  again 
the  simple,  kindly  man  who  had  been  her  childhood's  friend, 
and  who  was  now  England's  chief  of  men,  being  to 
England  both  father  and  son,  both  sword  and  shield.  She 
had  heard  his  name  carried  on  rolling  tides  of  human  shouts 
and  huzzas,  chording  with  the  firing  of  cannon,  the  beating 
of  drums,  the  tread  of  thousands,  the  chiming  of  bells,  and 
all  the  multitudinous  and  chaotic  clamour  which  constitutes 
the  excitement  of  a  great  crowd,  and  always  brings  with  it 
the  sense  of  bounding  life  and  brotherhood. 

109 


no  THE  LION'S  WHFXP 

And  in  the  midst  of  this  joyful  turbulence  she  had  caught 
sight  of  her  father  and  brothers  and  lover ;  her  father's  face 

O 

sternly  glad,  like  the  face  of  a  man  who  had  fought  a  good 
fight  to  assured  victory  ;  his  sons  imitating  his  bearing,  as 
well  as  youth  could  copy  age ;  and  the  young  lord  not 
far  from  them,  proud  and  radiant  and  carrying  aloft  the 
colours  of  the  Commonwealth.  Somewhere  in  that  crowd 
of  spectators  he  thought  Jane  must  be  present,  and  he  bore 
himself  as  if  he  were  constantly  in  her  sight. 

As  yet  they  had  not  met,  nor  had  Cluny  any  certain 
knowledge  of  the  Swaffham's  location.  There  had  been 
some  supposition  that  they  would  lodge  in  Leadenhall 
Street,  at  the  home  of  Mistress  Adair,  the  widow  of  an  In 
dependent  minister  who  had  preached  often  in  the  little 
chapel  attached  to  Oliver  Cromwell's  house  in  Hunting 
don  ;  but  of  this  he  had  no  positive  information,  and  he 
certainly  expected  that  Mrs.  Swaffham  would  advise  him 
of  their  arrival  in  London. 

Mrs.  Swaffham  had,  however,  learned  that  Cluny  Neville 
was  personally  objectionable  to  her  husband  and  sons,  and, 
as  she  could  not  see  clearly  what  road  to  take,  she  very 
wisely  stood  still,  waiting  for  some  light  and  guidance.  And 
it  seemed  unnecessary  to  trouble  Jane's  heart  until  there 
was  a  positive  reason  for  doing  so ;  yet  her  depression  and 
evident  disappointment  fretted  her  mother. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Jane  ?  "  she  asked  irri 
tably  one  morning  ;  "  you  look  as  if  you  had  lost  everything 
in  the  world  instead  of  being,  as  your  father  thinks,  right 
on  the  road  to  many  a  good  day.  I  wouldn't  throw  such  a 
damp  over  things  if  I  were  you." 

"  You  seem  to  have  forgotten  Cluny,  mother." 

"  He  seems  to  have  forgotten  us ;  he  might  have  called, 
I  think." 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  in 

"  Docs  he  know  where  we  are  ?  " 

"  He  could  have  found  out.  He  sees  Cymlin  often 
enough." 

"  I  think  Cymlin  dislikes  him.  I  asked  him  yesterday  if 
he  knew  Lord  Neville  and  he  answered  me  rudely." 

"  He  is  your  brother." 

"Just  for  that  reason  he  ought  to  have  spoken  civilly  to 
me." 

"He  is  your  brother,  and  you  must  hear  and  heed  what 
he  says.  And  I  must  tell  you,  Jane,  that  it  is  not  maidenly 
to  take  any  young  man  so  seriously  as  you  take  Lord 
Neville  until  your  father  and  brothers  are  satisfied.  It  is  a 
matter  of  importance  to  them  what  men  are  brought  into  the 
Swaffham  family.  There  is  plenty  to  make  you  happy  with 
out  Lord  Neville.  Your  own  people  are  safe  and  sound, 
the  Cause  we  love  is  secure,  and  you  may  now  dwell  your 
life  out  in  England  ;  but  if  we  had  not  conquered,  it  would 
have  been  over  the  seas  and  into  the  wilderness  for  us,  and 
strangers  forever  in  old  SwafFham.  I  shouldn't  think  you 
were  done  thanking  God  for  these  mercies  yet ;  and  if  not, 
then  where  do  you  find  heart-room  for  such  melancholy 
and  moping  as  I  see  in  you  ?  " 

"  But,  mother,  when  I  look  back  to  last  August ' 

"  If  you  want  to  look  happily  forward  never  look  back 
ward." 

"  To  be  sure  ;  but  though  I  know  Cluny  loves  me,  doubts 
and  fears  will  come,  and  I  cannot  always  fight  them  or 
reason  with  them." 

"  Don't  try  either  fighting  or  reasoning.  There  is  a 
broad  enough  way  between  them." 

Jane  smiled  and  lifted  her  tambour  work,  and  her  mother 
nodded  cheerfully  as  she  continued,  "  Enjoy  the  hour  <:s  it 
comes  to  you.  I  have  always  found  that  one  good  hour 


ii2  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

brings  on  another."  And  Jane  took  the  counsel  into  her 
heart  and  anon  began  to  sing  — 

"  It  was  alone  Thy  Providence, 
That  made  us  Masters  of  the  field," 

and  when  she  had  got  thus  far,  a  loud,  joyful  voice  joined 
her  in  the  next  two  lines,  and  its  owner  came  into  the  room 
singing  them  — 

"  Thou  art  our  Castle  of  defense, 

Our  Fort,  our  Bulwark  and  our  Shield." 

"  Oh,  Doctor  Verity  !  "  Jane  cried,  "  how  glad  I  am  to 
see  you." 

"  I  had  been  here  an  hour  ago,  but  I  had  to  wait  on  the 
Lady  Mary  Cromwell.  They  who  serve  women  must 
learn  to  wait.  She  has  sent  you  a  letter,  and  a  coach  is  at 
your  order,  and  you  are  bid  to  Whitehall.  And  you  will 
be  very  welcome  there." 

"  I  know  not  any  ceremonies,  Doctor." 

"  You  do  not  need  to  know  them.  It  is  Mary  Crom 
well,  yet;  though  if  the  women  of  Cromwell's  house  assume 
greatness,  he  has  won  it  for  them.  Why  should  they  not 
wear  the  honours  their  father  gives  them  ?  " 

Then  Jane  ran  to  her  mother,  and  her  box  of  fineries  was 
quickly  packed,  and  the  girl  came  down  for  her  visit  glow 
ing  with  hope  and  happiness.  All  the  shadows  were  gone  ; 
she  sat  a  little  proudly  in  the  fine  coach  by  the  side  of 
Doctor  Verity,  and  was  alert  and  watchful,  for  it  did  not 
seem  an  improbable  thing  that  she  might  have  a  passing 
sight  of  her  lover.  The  city  had  by  this  time  recovered  its 
every-day  temper,  and  she  could  not  help  contrasting  the 
plodding,  busy  serenity  of  its  present  mood  with  its  frenzy 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  113 

of  triumphant  joy  on  the  entry  of  Cromwell.  Doctor 
Verity  insisted  that  the  two  conditions  were  alike  natural. 
"  No  one  can  play  the  fool  like  a  wise  man,"  he  said;  "and 
the  greater  and  the  richer  the  city  the  more  extravagantly 
and  unreasonably  and  vauntingly  it  will  express  its  victory 
and  salvation.  London  had  so  much  to  lose,"  he  continued, 
"  that  it  would  better  have  lain  in  ashes  than  lain  at  the  feet 
of  any  Stuart." 

As  they  drew  near  to  Whitehall,  Jane's  spirits  fell  a  lit 
tle.  She  had  not  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  lover,  and  she 
felt  a  sudden  anxiety  about  her  position.  Sometimes  pros 
perity  is  as  fatal  to  friendship  as  adversity,  and  the  girl  tried 
in  silence  to  prepare  herself  for  any  change  fn  affection  that 
change  of  fortune  might  have  caused.  But  her  fears  were 
very  transient;  Mary  and  Frances  Cromwell  met  her  with 
effusive  attentions;  they  called  her  affectionately  by  her 
name,  and  quickly  took  her  to  the  general  sitting-room  of 
the  family.  Madame  Cromwell  was  there,  as  kind  and 
motherly  as  of  old  ;  and  Mistress  Ireton,  silently  reading  a 
sermon  of  Doctor  Owen's  ;  and  Mrs.  Claypole  selecting 
some  damask  for  a  new  gown  ;  and  Mary  and  Frances,  full 
of  the  joy  and  pride  of  their  great  position,  soon  carried 
Jane  all  through  their  splendid  apartments,  and  afterwards 
sat  down  together  in  Mary's  room  to  talk  over  old  times 
and  the  friends  and  occupations  that  had  made  them  happy 
and  memorable.  Their  first  inquiry  was  for  Lady  Matilda 
de  Wick,  and  when  Jane  answered,  "  Her  father  is  dead, 
and  I  know  not  exactly  what  has  befallen  her  since  his 
death,"  the  girls  were  all  silent  a  few  minutes.  After  the 
pause,  Mary  Cromwell  said  — 

"  I  remember  her  so  well  on  her  fine  Barbary  mare. 
How  handsome  she  was !  How  proud  !  If  the  Earl 
spoke  to  my  father  then  she  would  deign  to  ask  after 


n4  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

my  lessons,  or  my  dog,  or  how  the  skating  was  on  the 
Broad.  But  she  was  older  than  I,  and  it  seems  so  long 
ago — lately  she  has  been  deaf,  dumb  and  blind  to  the 
Cromwells — they  do  not  mind  that  much  now.  I  wonder 
where  she  is." 

"  It  was  said  she  would  live  with  her  aunt,  Lady  Jevery ; 
if  so,  she  must  be  in  London." 

"  And  you  know  it  not  ?  And  you  have  not  seen  her  ? 
That  is  a  marvel.  It  was  thought  impossible  for  Matilda 
de  Wick  and  Jane  SwafFham  to  live  long  apart." 

"  There  have  been  great  changes,"  sighed  Jane.  ct  Peo 
ple  that  were  once  friends  know  each  other  no  more.  It 
is  hoped  now  that  there  will  be  many  reconciliations." 

"  We  have  seen  Lady  Heneage  often,"  said  Mary  CroiTK 
well,  "  and  'tis  said  there  is  a  purpose  of  marriage  between 
Alice  Heneage  and  a  favourite  of  my  father's — Lord  Cluny 
Neville." 

"  I  have  seen  Lord  Neville,"  said  Jane.  "  He  brought 
me  your  letters  and  the  blue  and  gold  ribbon  you  sent  me. 
His  visits  were  flying  ones  ;  he  came  and  he  went." 

"  Like  the  knight  in  the  story — he  loved  and  he  rode 
away.  But  we  are  all  mightily  taken  with  his  fine  manner 
and  his  beauty,  and  the  Lord  General,  my  father,  thinks  him 
to  have  great  sincerity  and  discretion." 

"  A  very  perfect  youth,"  answered  Jane  with  a  smile. 

"  Indeed,  we  think  so  ;  if  you  are  of  a  different  opinion 
you  will  change  it  on  a  better  knowledge  of  the  young  man. 
He  is  coming  here  this  afternoon,  is  he  not,  Frank  ?  " 

"  He  said  so.  He  was  to  make  some  copies  of  the  hymn 
he  wrote,  for  Mr.  Milton  has  set  it  to  music,  and  we  are 
to  practice  the  singing  together.  Father  thinks  very  highly 
of  the  words." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  ejaculated  Jane,  "  is  he  also  a  poet  ?     I 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  115 

thought  he  wrote  only  with  his  sword.  I  fear  that  he  has 
too  many  perfections.  Has  he  not  one  fault  to  balance 
them  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mary,  "  he  has  one  great  fault,  he  is  a 
Presbyterian,  and  a  Scotch  Presbyterian.  In  all  other  things 
he  holds  with  the  Lord  General,  but  he  sticks  to  his  Scotch 
idols — John  Knox  and  the  Covenant." 

"  I  think  no  worse  of  him  for  that,"  said  Jane.  "  If  he 
knew  what  an  Independent  was,  he  would  likely  be  an 
Independent." 

"  It  is  not  believable,"  retorted  Mary.  "  He  is  a 
Scotchman,  or  next  door  to  one.  And  if  a  man  is  a 
Samaritan,  what  can  he  know  of  Jerusalem  ?  " 

"  I  care  not  what  he  is,"  said  Frances.  "  He  has  hand 
some  eyes,  and  he  writes  poetry,  and  he  tells  such  stories  as 
make  your  blood  run  cold — and  sometimes  love-stories,  and 
then  his  voice  is  like  music  ;  and  if  it  was  not  sinful  to 
dance  — — 

"  But  it  is  sinful,"  said  Jane  warmly,  "  and  if  I  saw 
Lord  Neville  or  any  other  man  making  mincing  steps  to  a 
viol  I  would  never  wish  to  speak  to  him  again.  Would 
you,  Mary  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,  but  Frank  is  only  talking.  We  have 
masters  now  in  music  and  singing  and  geography,  and  I  am 
learning  Morley's  Airs1  straight  through,  besides  roundelays 
and  madrigals.  And  we  have  a  new  harpsichord,  though 
the  Lord  General,  my  father,  likes  best  the  organ  or  the 
lute." 

"  And  besides  all  this,"  continued  Frances,  "  we  are 
studying  the  French  tongue,  and  history,  and  the  use  of 
the  globes ;  and  Mrs.  Katon  comes  twice  every  week  to 

1  Popular  and  patriotic  songs  having  the  same  vogue  then  as  Moore's 
Melodies  in  our  era. 


u6  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

teach  us  how  to  make  wax  flowers  and  fruit  and  take  the 
new  stitches  in  tatting  and  embroidery.  And,  Jane,  I  have 
got  a  glass  bowl  full  of  goldfish.  They  came  from  China, 
and  there  are  no  more  of  them,  I  think,  in  England.  Come 
with  me,  and  you  shall  see  them." 

"  Never  mind  the  fish  now,  Frank,"  said  Mary ;  "  there 
is  the  bell  for  dinner,  and  we  must  answer  it  at  once  or  we 
shall  grieve  mother." 

They  rose  at  these  words  and  went  quickly  to  the  dining- 
room.  Mrs.  Cromwell,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  her  daugh 
ter,  Mrs.  Ireton,  was  just  entering  it,  and  Jane  wondered 
silently  at  the  state  these  simple  country  gentry  had  so 
easily  assumed.  Officers  of  the  household,  in  rich  uniforms, 
waited  on  all  their  movements  and  served  them  with 
obsequious  respect ;  and  they  bore  their  new  honours  as  if 
they  had  been  born  to  the  purple.  Mrs.  Cromwell's 
simplicity  stood  her  in  the  place  of  dignity,  and  the  piety 
and  stern  republicanism  of  Mrs.  Ireton  gave  to  her  bearing 
that  indifference  to  outward  pomp  which  passed  readily  for 
inherited  nobility,  while  the  beauty  of  Mrs.  Claypole  and 
her  love  of  splendour  fitted  her  surroundings  with  more 
than  accidental  propriety.  All  the  women  of  this  famous 
household  were  keenly  alive  to  the  glory  of  those  achieve 
ments  which  had  placed  them  in  a  palace,  and  all  of 
them  rendered  to  its  great  head  every  title  of  honour  his 
mighty  deeds  claimed  as  their  right. 

"  The  General  dines  with  the  Speaker,"  said  Mrs. 
Cromwell ;  and  she  was  herself  about  to  say  grace  when 
Doctor  Verity  entered.  He  was  greeted  with  a  chorus  of 
welcomes,  and  readily  took  his  seat  at  the  foot  of  the  table 
and  spoke  the  few  words  of  grateful  prayer  which  sweetened 
and  blessed  every  Puritan  meal.  Then  in  answer  to  some 
remark  about  Cromwell's  absence  he  said, 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  117 

"  The  Lord  General  is  much  troubled  about  the 
Worcester  prisoners.  There  has  just  been  a  pitiful  kind  of 
triumph  made  out  of  their  miseries.  I  don't  approve  of  it, 
not  I,  God  forbid  !  They  have  been  made  a  spectacle  for 
men  and  angels,  marched  from  Hamnstead  Heath,  through 
Aldgate,  Cheapside,  and  the  Strand,  to  Westminster — 
hungry,  beggarly  creatures,  many  of  them  wounded,  and 
nearly  naked." 

"Poor  fellows,"  said  Mrs.  Cromwell. 

"  Sturdy,  surly  fellows,  madame.  I  don't  envy  the  men 
who  will  have  to  manage  them  as  slaves." 

"  They  go  to  the  Barbadoes,  I  hear  ?  " 

"  Yes, — it  is  Scotland  no  more  for  them." 

"  Is  that  right,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  madame,  I  am  not  clear  in  my  conscience  con 
cerning  the  matter.  It  is  the  liberty  of  war.  The  Lord 
General  has  given  two  or  three  prisoners  to  each  of  his 
friends  and  entertainers  between  here  and  Worcester. 
However,  the  miserable  fellows  brought  some  comfort  out 
of  their  evil  plight,  for  the  citizens  along  all  the  route  for 
got  they  were  enemies,  and  the  women  fed  them  with  the 
best  of  victuals,  and  the  men  stepped  from  their  shop  doors 
and  put  money  in  their  hands.  I'll  be  bound  the  rogues 
got  more  money  and  good  white  bread  this  morning  than 
they  have  seen  in  all  their  lives  before.  Besides  which, 
there  is,  in  the  Exchange  and  in  the  ale-houses,  a  box  for 
the  poor  prisoners,  and  whenever  men  make  a  bargain  they 
drop  a  God's-penny  into  it  for  them.  That's  Englishmen 
all  over;  they  fight  to  the  death  in  fair  battle,  but  when 
their  foe  is  at  their  feet  they  lift  him  up  and  help  him  and 
forget  that  he  was  ever  their  enemy.  And  may  God  keep 
Englishmen  ever  in  such  mind  !  " 

D 

"  Indeed,"    said     Mary    Cromwell,    "  these    Scots    have 


n8  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

given  us  trouble  and  sorrow  enough.  They  ought  to  be 
sent  out  of  the  country,  or  out  of  the  world,  and  that  at 
once !  " 

"That  is  my  opinion,"  said  Mrs.  Ireton.  "  Our  brave 
men  are  being  slain,  and  the  country  is  torn  asunder  for 
their  malignancy." 

"  There  have  been  as  brave  spirits  as  the  world  ever  saw 
in  both  Puritan  and  Royalist  armies,  madame,"  answered 
the  Doctor.  "  I,  for  one,  am  glad  that  both  parties  have 
fought  their  quarrel  to  the  end.  I  rejoice  because  our 
hard-smiting  Puritan  hosts  would  not  let  the  Stuarts  come 
back  and  trample  them,  with  all  law  and  liberty,  under  their 
feet.  But  I  would  have  been  deadly  sorry  if  the  Cavaliers 
of  England  had  wanted  the  temper  to  fight  for  their  King 
and  their  church.  Right  or  wrong,  we  must  honour  men 
who  have  convictions  and  are  willing  to  die  for  them." 

"  Monarchy  and  Prelacy  go  together,"  said  Mrs.  Ireton  ; 
u  and  England  has  had  more  than  enough  of  both." 

"  We  are  of  one  mind  on  that  point,  madame,"  said 
Doctor  Verity.  "  In  this  respect,  the  man  George  Fox  and 
his  followers  have  some  true  light,  and  they  are  scattering 
the  truth,  as  they  see  it,  broadcast.  I  have  taken  occasion, 
and  sought  occasion,  and  gone  out  of  my  way  to  find  oc 
casion,  to  meet  George  Fox,  but  have  not  yet  done  so.  I 
was  told  that  he  once  listened  to  my  preaching  at  St.  Paul's 
Cross,  and  that  he  said  I  was  not  far  from  the  Kingdom. 
I  liked  that  in  George ;  I  hope  I  may  say  the  same  for  him. 
Our  Lord  General  thinks  him  to  be  a  man  after  God's  own 
heart." 

"  My  father  sees  the  best  in  every  one,"  said  Mrs. 
Claypole. 

"  Why  do  you  not  speak  to  the  Lord  General  about 
these  poor  prisoners  ?  "  Mrs.  Cromwell  said.  "  He  gave 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  119 

very  kind  orders  about  the  Dunbar  prisoners,  and  if  they 
Were  not  carried  out  it  was  not  his  fault." 

"  I  neglect  no  opportunities,  rnadame.  And  Cromwell 
needs  not  that  any  one  soften  his  heart.  The  sight  of 
these  fallen  heroes  made  him  weep — but  there  are  consider 
ations — and  every  triumph  implies  some  one  crushed  at  the 
chariot  wheels." 

"  But,  Doctor  Verity,"  said  Jane,  "  if  we  may  lawfully 
fight  and  kill  for  the  sake  of  our  rights  and  our  convictions, 
may  we  not  also  lawfully  punish  those  who  made  us  put 
our  lives  in  such  jeopardy  ?  " 

"  Jane,  I  am  sure  that  we  have  the  right  of  self-defense  ; 
the  awful  attributes  of  vengeance  and  retribution  are  dif 
ferent  things.  Will  mortal  hands  be  innocent  that  take 
the  sword  of  vengeance  from  God's  armoury  ?  I  fear  not. 
I  had  a  long  talk  with  Sir  Richard  Musgrave  this  morning 
on  this  very  subject.  I  found  Lord  Cluny  Neville  with 
him  ;  it  seems  they  are  related." 

"  Why  did  you  not  bring  Lord  Neville  with  you  ? " 
asked  Frank. 

"•  Lord  Neville  looks  after  his  own  affairs,  Lady  Frances 
— I  do  likewise." 

"Then,  Doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Cromwell,  "look  better 
after  your  dinner.  That  buttered  salmon  has  gone  cold 
while  you  talked.  There  is  a  jar  of  olives  near  you, — and 
pray  what  will  you  have  ?  a  dish  of  steaks  ?  or  marrow 
bones?  or  ribs  of  roast  beef?  or  some  larded  veal?  or 
broiled  larks  ?  " 

"  Roast  beef  for  John  Verity,  madame,  and  a  couple  of 
broiled  birds  and  a  dish  of  prawns  and  cheese.  I  enjoy  my 
meat,  and  am  not  more  ashamed  of  it  than  the  flowers  are 
of  drinking  the  morning  dew." 

"  You  are  always  happy,  Doctor,"  said  Jane. 


120  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  I  think  it  is  the  best  part  of  duty  to  be  happy,  and  to 
make  others  happy.  No  one  will  merit  heaven  by  making 
a  hell  of  earth.  As  I  came  through  Jermyn  Street  I  saw 
Lady  Matilda  de  Wick.  She  looked  daggers  and  pistols  at 
me.  God  knows,  I  pity  her.  She  was  shrouded  in  black." 

"  Has  anything  been  heard  of  Stephen  de  Wick  ? " 
asked  Jane. 

"  It  is  thought  he  reached  The  Hague  in  safety.  His 
companion,  Sir  Hugh  Belvard,  joined  Prince  Rupert's 
pirate  fleet  there." 

Then  Mrs.  Ireton,  as  if  desirous  of  changing  the  sub 
ject,  spoke  of  Doctor  John  Owen,  and  of  his  treatise  on 
"  The  Pattern-Man"  and  Doctor  Verity  said  he  was  "  a 
Master  in  Israel."  Talking  of  one  book  led  to  conver 
sations  on  several  others,  until  finally  the  little  volume 
by  Cromwell's  brother-in-law,  Doctor  Wilkins,  was  men 
tioned.  It  was  a  dissertation  on  the  moon  and  its  inhabi 
tants,  and  the  possibility  of  a  passage  thither.  Mrs.  Ireton 
disapproved  the  book  altogether,  and  Mrs.  Cromwell  was 
quite  scornful  concerning  her  brother  Wilkins,  and  thought 
"the  passage  to  the  heavenly  land  of  much  greater  im 
portance." 

But  it  was  easy  to  turn  from  Doctor  Wilkins  to  the 
great  University  in  which  he  was  a  professor,  and  Mrs. 
Claypole  reminded  her  mother  of  their  visit  to  Oxford 
after  its  occupation  by  Cavalier  and  Puritan  soldiers. 

"  I  remember,"  she  answered.  "  It  was  a  sin  and  a 
shame  to  see  !  The  stained  windows  were  broken,  and  the 
shrines  of  Bernard  and  Frideswide  open  to  the  storm ;  the 
marble  heads  of  the  Apostles  were  mixed  up  with  cannon 
balls  and  rubbish  of  all  kinds.  Straw  heaps  were  on  the 
pavements  and  staples  in  the  walls,  for  dragoons  had  been 
quartered  in  All  Souls,  and  their  beasts  had  crunched  their 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  121 

oats  under  the  tower  of  St.  Mary  Magdalene.  I  could  not 
help  feeling  the  pity  of  it,  and  when  I  told  the  General 
he  was  troubled.  He  said  '  the  ignorant  have  clumsy  ways 
of  showing  their  hatred  of  wrong ;  but  being  ignorant,  we 
must  bear  with  them.' 

"  All  these  barbarisms  have  been  put  out  of  sight,"  said 
Dr.  Verity,  "  and  thanks  to  Doctor  Pocock,  Oxford  is  it 
self  as;ain." 

O 

"  Doctor  Pocock  !  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Cromwell.  "  He 
was  here  a  few  days  ago  to  consult  with  the  General.  He 
had  on  a  square  cap,  and  large  ruff  surmounting  his  doctor's 
gown  ;  his  hair  was  powdered  and  his  boots  had  lawn  tops 
trimmed  with  ribbons.  He  looked  very  little  like  a  Com 
monwealth  Divine  and  Professor." 

"  My  dear  madame,  Doctor  Pocock  is  both  a  Royalist 
and  a  Prelatist." 

u  Then  he  ought  not  to  be  in  Oxford,"  said  iMary  Crom 
well  hotly.  "What  is  he  doing  there  ?  " 

"  He  is  doing  good  work  there,  Lady  Mary  for  he  is 
the  most  famous  Oriental  and  Hebrew  scholar  in  England. 
No  Latiner,  but  great  in  Syriac  and  Arabic;  and  no  bigot, 
for  he  is  the  close  friend  of  Doctor  Wallis  and  of  your 
uncle,  Doctor  Wilkins,  though  he  does  not  go  with  them 
to  the  Wadham  conventicle.  The  Parliamentary  triers  de 
clared  him  incompetent  but  Edward  Pocock  had  powerful 
friends  who  knew  his  worth,  and  perhaps  if  you  ask  your 
honoured  father,  he  can  tell  you  better  than  I  why  Dr.  Po 
cock  is  in  Oxford,  and  what  he  is  doing  there." 

At  this  moment,  Lord  Cluny  Neville  entered  the  room. 
He  saw  Jane  on  the  instant,  and  his  eyes  gave  her  swift 
welcome,  while  in  the  decided  exhilaration  following  his 
entrance  Love  found  his  opportunities.  But  among  them 
was  none  that  gave  him  free  speech  with  Jane;  they  were 


122  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

not  a  moment  alone.  Cluny  had  a  fund  of  pleasant  talk, 
for  he  had  just  come  from  the  Mulberry  Gardens,  where 
he  had  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Evelyn  and  had  some  refresh 
ment  at  the  tables  with  them. 

"  I  suppose  the  Evelyns  were  as  gaily  dressed  as  usual  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Claypole,  "  and  looking  as  melancholy  as  if  the 
world  would  come  to  an  end  in  a  week's  time  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  they  were  very  handsome,"  answered  Neville ; 
"  and  the  coach  they  brought  from  Paris  is  extremely  fine. 
We  had  some  chocolate  in  thin  porcelain  cups,  and  some 
Italian  biscuits  and  sweetmeats.  And  anon  we  were  joined 
by  Mr.  Izaak  Walton,  the  gentlest  of  malignants,  and  very 
entertaining  in  his  talk,  Mr.  Evelyn  was  praising  Mr. 
Milton's  poetry,  but  Mr.  Walton  did  not  agree  with  him. 
He  thought  John  Milton  was  always  trying  to  scale  heaven 
by  a  ladder  of  his  own,  or  else  to  bring  down  heaven  on 
earth  in  some  arbitrary  shape  or  other — that  in  truth,  he 
knew  not  in  his  work  where  he  was  going." 

"  He  goes,  truly,  where  Mr.  Izaak  Walton  cannot  follow 
him,"  said  Mrs.  Ireton.  "  John  Milton  has  looked  God's 
Word  and  his  own  soul  in  the  face,  and  he  will  not  hold 
Mr.  Walton's  opinion  of  him  as  anything  to  his  hurt." 

"  Besides,  "  added  Cluny  with  a  pleasant  laugh,  "  Mr. 
Walton  is  writing  a  book,  and  Mr.  Milton  will  soon  not 
need  to  say  with  the  patient  man  of  Uz,  l  Oh,  that  mine 
enemy  had  written  a  book  !  '  He  may  have  reprisals." 

During  this  speech  there  was  heard  from  a  distant  apart 
ment  the  sound  of  music,  low  and  sweet,  and  full  of 
heavenly  melody. 

"That  is  Mr.  Milton  playing,"  said  Mary  Cromwell. 
"  I  would  know  his  touch  among  a  thousand."  And  then 
Cluny  blushed  a  little,  and  held  out  a  small  roll  which  he 
carried  in  his  hand.  It  contained  three  fair  copies  of  his 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP 


123 


own  hymn,  and  Mary  delightedly  hurried  Jane  and  Frank 
away  with  her  to  the  musician.  He  turned  as  they  entered 
and  bowed  gravely,  and  the  girls  fell  at  once  under  the 
charm  of  his  music.  Mary  involuntarily  assumed  a  ma 
jestic  attitude,  Frances  ceased  her  childish  titter,  Cluny  be 
came  almost  severe,  and  Jane  stood  in  silent  delight 
while  the  grand  melody  filled  their  souls  till  they  out- 
soared  the  shadow  of  earth  and  that  unrest  which  men 
miscall  delight.  "  Glory  to  God  !  "  he  sang,  and  the 
room  rang  with  the  lofty  notes  and  seemed  full  of  Presence, 
and  of  flame-like  faces,  sublime  and  tender,  while  the  air 
vibrated  to  the  final  triumphant  crescendo,  "  Glory  to  God  ! 
Glory  to  God  !  Glory  to  God  in  the  Highest  !  "  And  in 
his  beautiful  face  there  was  seen  for  a  few  moments  that 
face  of  the  soul  wherein  God  shineth. 

Then  there  was  a  short  pause  of  spiritual  sensitiveness 
which  was  broken  by  the  opening  of  a  door,  and  all  eyes 
turning  towards  it  beheld  Cromwell  standing  on  the  thresh 
old.  Perhaps  he  had  been  listening  to  Mr.  Milton's  ecstatic 
anthem,  for  his  clear,  penetrating  eyes  were  tender  and 
mystical,  and  a  smile  gentle  as  a  woman's  softened  his 
austere  mouth.  He  wore  a  suit  of  black  cloth  with  a  fall 
ing  linen  collar,  stockings  of  homespun  wool  which  his  wife 
had  knit,  and  strong  shoes  fastened  with  a  steel  latchet. 
But  his  brown  hair,  tinged  with  gray,  flowed  down  upon  his 
shoulders,  and  his  whole  air  was  that  of  a  man  on  whom 
the  eternal  dignities  of  a  good  and  great  life  had  set  their 
seal.  Frances  ran  to  him  with  a  cry  of  delight.  Mary 
looked  at  him  with  adoring  pride,  and  then  put  into  Mr. 
Milton's  hand  the  roll  of  manuscript  Lord  Neville  had 
given  her.  Jane  left  her  companions  and  timidly  advanced 
to  meet  the  Lord  General.  He  saw  her  in  a  moment,  and 
gave  her  a  smile  so  bright  and  affectionate  that  all  fear 


i24  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

vanished,  and  she  hastened  her  steps  and  the  next  moment 
felt  his  strong  arm  draw  her  to  his  side. 

"  Jane,"  he  said  tenderly,  "  Jane  Swaffham,  I  got  your 
message,  and  it  did  me  good ;  it  did  indeed.  Out  of  the 
mouths  of  babes  often  come  our  sweetest  help  and  comfort. 
When  I  was  ill  and  my  heart  was  troubled  for  Israel,  I 
remembered  one  night  the  word  you  sent  me  by  John  Ver 
ity,  and  it  was  very  good.  I  think  of  it  often,  Jane,  when 
in  the  midst  of  ill  men.  Say  it  now  in  my  own  ears,  and 
let  me  taste  its  goodness  from  your  own  lips." 

Then  Jane  lifted  her  eyes  to  his,  and  the  fiery  particle  in 
them  filled  her  with  Cromwell's  own  faith  and  courage,  and 
she  said  with  a  fearless  fervour,  "  They  shall  be  able  to  do 
nothing  against  thee,  saith  the  Lord.  My  hands  shall  cover  thee" 

"  Truly  God  is  good,  indeed  He  is,  Jane,  and  you  have 
been  His  messenger  to  me.  Let  us  take  this  gracious  God 
at  His  Word.  And  if  ever  I  can  help  you  or  yours,  Jane, 
come  to  me  ;  I  will  be  as  good  as  my  word — doubt  not. 
Let  us  see  what  John  Milton  is  going  to  play  for  us.  I'll 
warrant  'tis  my  young  soldier's  hymn,  and  in  my  judgment, 
a  good  hymn." 

They  were  advancing;  towards  the  organ   as  Cromwell 

*  o  o 

spoke,  and  they  joined  the  group  around  the  inspired  player. 
His  trampling  notes  gave  the  sensation  of  charging  men 
and  horses,  and  of  the  ministration  of  angelic  hosts.  Then 
there  was  a  pause,  and  out  of  it  arose  in  jubilant  praise  the 
song  of  triumph  on  the  battle-field  : 

Not  unto  us,  not  unto  us,  O  Lord, 

Thine  was  the  Word,  and  Thine  the  mighty  sword, 

Thine  be  the  glory. 

We  heard  Thy  call  to  arms,  and  understood  : 
But  Thine  the  hand  that  wrought  in  flame  and  blood, 

The  splendid  story. 


"BEHELD  CROMWELL  STANDING  UPON  THE  THRESHOLD." 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  125 

Not  for  ourselves,  or  for  this  day,  we  fought, 
But  for  all  lands  and  for  all  times  we  wrought 

Stormy  Salvation  : 

Thine  was  the  battle,  both  by  land  and  sea, 
Thine  was  our  valour  and  our  victory, 

Thine  our  oblation." 

So  far,  Cluny  Neville  led  the  singers,  but  it  was  Cromwell's 
strenuous,  adoring  tones  that  mostly  influenced  the  stirring 
chorus  — 

"  Not  unto  us  triumphant  lauds  and  lays, 
To  '  Him  whose  name  is  Wonderful  '  be  praise ! 
Be  thanks  !   Be  glory  !  " 

The  exultant  song  ceased,  but  their  hearts  were  yet  full  of 
thanksgiving,  and  Cromwell  walked  about  the  room — with 
Frances  and  Jane  at  his  side — humming  the  majestic  mel 
ody,  or  breaking  out  into  some  line  of  audible  song,  until 
he  finally  said, 

"  I  came  here  for  John  Milton,  whose  pen  I  need,  and 
I  have  stayed  to  sing  ;  and  that  is  well,  for  the  soul  has 
wings  as  well  as  hands — and  indeed  our  souls  have  had  a 
good  flight  heavenward."  Then  addressing  John  Milton, 
he  said, 

"We  have  sundry  letters  to  write,  and  the  plain  truth  is, 
I  could  wish  they  were  more  heavenly.  Here  is  a  man  to 
answer  who  is  playing  fast  and  loose  with  us, — and  I  will 
not  have  it.  He  is  laying  too  much  weight  on  my  pa 
tience  ;  let  him  take  care  that  he  break  it  not." 

Speaking  thus,  he  walked  towards  the  door,  and  Jane 
marveled  at  the  man.  His  countenance  was  changed  :  all 
its  wistful  tenderness  and  exaltation  had  given  place  to  a 
stern,  steadfast  severity  ;  his  voice  was  sharp,  his  words 


.-26  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

struck  like  caustic,  and  the  homelike,  country  gentleman 
was  suddenly  clothed  with  a  great  and  majestic  deportment. 
He  put  on  his  hat  as  he  left  the  room.  And  there  was  the 
glint  of  a  gold  band  round  it,  and  in  Jane's  mind  it  gave  to 
the  rugged,  broad-hatted  grandeur  of  the  man  a  kind  of 
mythical  authority,  for  she  instantly  remembered  a  picture 
of  St.  George  of  Cappadocia  in  de  Wick  hall  which  had 
the  same  gold  band  around  the  helmet.  And  ever  after 
wards  she  associated  in  her  memory  the  patron  Saint  of 
England  and  the  great  Pathfinder  of  her  people. 

Neville  left  soon  after  the  Lord  General,  and  the  girls 
had  a  game  of  battledore  and  shuttlecock  in  the  long  gal 
lery  ;  then  sewing,  reading  aloud,  the  evening  meal,  and 
the  evening  exercise  closed  the  day.  The  days  that  followed 
were  little  different ;  when  the  weather  permitted  there  was 
a  ride  in  the  park,  or  shopping  in  Jermyn  Street,  or  a  visit 
to  St.  Paul's  to  hear  Dr.  Owen,  or  the  great  tolerant  Mr. 
Jeremy  Taylor.  But  Jane  thought  Dr.  Verity  need  hardly 
have  given  her  special  counsel  against  the  vanities  of  such 
a  life  as  the  Cromwells  led.  On  the  whole,  she  was  not 
very  sorry  when  her  visit  was  over  and  she  was  free  to  re 
turn  home.  In  spite  of  the  frankest  kindness,  she  felt  out 
of  her  element.  The  Cromwells  had  outgrown  their  old 
friends,  and  not  all  their  familiarities  could  dispel  the  at 
mosphere  of  superiority  which  surrounded  them  ;  it  was  un 
avoidable  and  unequivocal,  though  they  were  not  themselves 
conscious  of  it. 

But  every  happy  family  takes  its  tone  from  the  head  of 
the  household,  and  this  conqueror  of  three  Kingdoms,  step 
ping  out  grandly  to  their  government  from  his  victorious 
battle-fields,  impressed  something  of  his  own  character  upon 
those  so  nearly  and  dearly  allied  to  him.  They  had  been 
after  his  image  and  likeness  at  St.  Ives  and  Ely,  what  won- 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  127 

der  if  in  the  palaces  of  London  they  took  on  something  of 
the  roval  air  which  his  achievements  entitled  them  to  as 
sume  ?  There  are  friends  whose  favour  we  wear  as  jewels 
and  ornaments,  and  there  are  others  whose  love  will  bear 
the  usage  of  an  every-day  garment,  and  Jane  understood  that 
she  must  put  the  Cromwells  among  those  friends  reserved 
for  rare  or  great  occasions. 

Then  there  came  to  her  mind  in  very  sweet  fashion  the 
memory  of  Matilda  de  Wick.  They  had  quarreled  almost 
constantly  for  years,  and  Matilda's  exacting  temper  and 
sharp  tongue  had  wounded  her  often  ;  but  for  all  that  she 
knew  Matilda  loved  her.  Now  perfect  friendship  must  be 
founded  on  perfect  equality,  for  though  love  may  stoop 
to  an  inferior,  friendship  cannot  do  so  without  becoming 
patronage  and  offense.  But  between  Matilda  and  Jane 
there  was  no  question  of  this  kind.  The  Swaffhams  were 
noble  by  birth,  they  needed  no  title  to  give  them  rank.  In 
their  own  county  they  stood  among  the  foremost,  and  Earl 
de  Wick  had  ever  been  ready  to  acknowledge  the  prece 
dence  of  a  family  so  much  more  ancient  than  his  own. 
Besides  which,  the  Swaffhams  were  very  wealthy.  Israel 
Swaffham  had  given  his  eldest  daughter  on  her  marriage  to 
Lord  Armingford  ten  thousand  pounds,  an  immense  bridal 
gift  in  those  days.  So  that  the  question  of  equality  had 
never  crossed  or  shadowed  the  friendship  between  Jane  and 
Matilda.  Their  many  quarrels  had  been  about  King 
Charles,  or  Oliver  Cromwell — or  Stephen  de  Wick,  for 
Matilda  was  passionately  attached  to  her  youngest  brother 
and  she  thought  Jane  Swaffham  valued  him  too  little. 
With  her  mind  full  of  kindly  thoughts  towards  Matilda, 
Jane  returned  to  her  home,  and  she  was  delighted  to  find  a 
letter  from  her  friend  waiting  for  her. 

"  It    came    this    very    morning,"  said    Mrs.  Swaffham, 


J28  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  and  I  told  the  man  who  brought  it  you  would  be 
here  to-day,  and  no  doubt  would  answer  it  forthwith. 
Have  you  had  a  good  visit,  Jane  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  You  wouldn't  like  to  go  again  just  yet,  eh,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  No,  mother.  I  do  not  know  why.  They  were  all 
very  kind  to  me,  and  the  Lord  General  wonderfully  so — 
but  there  was  a  difference,  a  change  I  cannot  describe.  It 
was  not  that  they  were  less  kind " 

"  I  understand.  Power  changes  every  one.  Open  your 
letter,  I  want  to  know  how  Matilda  is ;  her  man  was  so 
'ippish,  I  would  not  ask  him  a  question." 

Then  Jane  laid  aside  her  bonnet  and  opened  her  letter. 
"  She  is  at  Lady  Jevery's  house,  mother,  and  she  longs  to 
see  me,  and  indeed  I  am  in  the  same  mind.  We  shall  be 
sure  to  quarrel,  but  then " 

"  You  can  both  play  at  that  game,  and  you  hold  your 
own  very  well.  What  is  the  use  of  a  friend  if  you  can't 
talk  plain  and  straight  to  her  ?  I  like  Matilda  no  worse  for 
her  little  tempers.  I  would  go  to  Jevery  House  in  the 
morning.  Whom  did  you  see  at  the  Cockpit  ?  " 

"  Doctor  John  Owen  for  one.  He  has  just  been  made 
Chancellor  of  Oxford,  and  General  Cromwell  expects  great 
things  from  him.  I  saw  also  John  Milton,  who  writes  so 
beautifully,  and  he  plays  the  organ  like  a  seraph.  And 
Doctor  Wilkins  was  there  one  day,  and  he  talked  to  us 
about  his  lunarian  journey  ;  and  Mr.  Jeremy  Taylor  called, 
and  we  had  a  little  discourse  from  him;  and  Mrs.  Lambert, 
and  Mrs.  Fleetwood,  and  Lady  Heneage,  and  Mrs.  Fer- 
mor,  and  many  others  paid  their  respects.  It  seemed  to 
me  there  was  much  enforced  courtesy,  especially  between 
Mrs.  Fleetwood  and  Mrs.  Ireton  ;  but — changes  are  to  be 
expected.  Mrs.  Cromwell  and  Lady  Heneage  used  to  be 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  129 

gossips,  and  kiss  each  other  before  they  sat  down  to  talk, 
and  now  they  curtsey,  and  call  each  other  '  my  lady,'  and 
speak  of  the  last  sermon,  or  Conscience  Meeting.  I  saw 
Lord  Neville  several  times,  but  had  no  private  speech  with 
him  ;  and  I  heard  Alary  Cromwell  say  there  was  a  purpose 
of  marriage  between  him  and  Alice  Heneage." 

O  o 

"  'Tis  very  like." 

"  I  do  not  think  so.     I  am  sure  he  loves  me." 

"  Then  he  should  say  so,  bold  and  outright." 

j  *  O 

"  He  said  last  night  he  was  coming  to  see  my  father  and 

O  O  J 

vou,  and  though  he  spoke  the  words  as  if  they  were  mere 
courtesy,  I  read  in  his  face  the  purpose  of  his  visit.  Mother, 
we  shall  need  your  good  word  with  my  father." 

"  I  can't  go  against  your  father,  Jane.  I  would  as  soon 
take  hot  coals  in  my  naked  hands." 

"  But  you  can  manage  to  make  father  see  things  as  you  do." 

"  Not  always.  He  would  have  stayed  at  Swaffham  and 
minded  his  own  affairs  instead  of  following  Oliver  Crom 
well,  if  I  could  have  made  him  see  things  as  I  did.  Men 
know  better  than  women  what  ought  to  be  done ;  they  are 
the  head  of  the  house,  and  women  must  follow  as  they 
lead.  Your  sister  Armingford  wanted  to  marry  Frederick 
Walton,  and  your  father  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing. 
You  see  he  was  right.  Frederick  Walton  was  killed  in 
battle,  and  she  would  have  been  a  widow  on  her  father's  and 
her  father-in-law's  hands.  You  will  have  to  do  as  your 
father  says,  Jane  ;  so  make  up  your  mind  to  that.  The 
SwafFham  women  have  always  been  obedient  and  easy  to 
guide,  and  it  isn't  likely  you  will  need  bit  and  bridle." 

"  I  would  not  endure  bit  and  bridle." 

"  All  I  can  say  is,  your  father  will  decide  about  Lord 
Neville.  Father  keeps  his  own  counsel,  and  he  may  have 
a  purpose  already  of  marrying  you  to  some  one  else." 


1 3o  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  I  will  not  marry  any  one  else." 

"  Your  sister  said  the  same  thing,  but  she  married  Philip 
Armingford ;  and  now  there  is  no  man  in  the  world  but 
Philip." 

u  I  will  marry  Cluny  Neville  or  remain  a  spinster." 

"  You  will  in  the  end  do  as  your  father  and  brothers  say." 

"  What  have  my  brothers  to  do  with  my  marriage  ?  " 

"  A  great  deal.  The  men  of  a  family  have  to  meet 
about  family  affairs.  It  wouldn't  do  to  have  some  one 
among  the  SwafFhams  that  the  SwafFhams  didn't  like  or 
didn't  trust.  They  have  always  been  solid  for  SwafFham; 
that  is  the  reason  that  SwafFham  has  done  well  to  SwafFham. 
There,  now  !  say  no  more  about  your  marriage.  It  is  be 
forehand  talk,  and  that  kind  of  discussion  amounts  to 
nothing.  It  is  mostly  to  go  over  again.  Your  father 
thinks  of  buying  this  house.  Parliament  has  ofFered  it 
very  reasonable  to  him,  in  consideration  of  the  service  he 
and  your  three  brothers  have  rendered." 

"  It  belonged  to  Sir  Thomas  Sandys  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  And  Parliament  confiscated  it  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  If  I  were  father  I  would  not  give  a  shilling  for  it.  It 
will  yearn  for  its  own  till  it  gets  back  to  them.  If  the 
King  had  taken  SwafFham,  we  should  yearn  for  it  at  the 
other  side  of  the  world,  and  some  SwafFham  would  go 
back  to  it,  though  it  were  generations  after." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  Jane.  I 
suppose  the  Cromwells  live  in  a  deal  of  splendour." 

"  Everything  is  very  fine.  Mary  Cromwell's  room  has 
the  walls  hung  with  green  perpetuano  and  tapestries  of 
Meleager.  The  standing  bed  is  of  carved  wood,  and  the 
quilt  of  Holland  striped  stufF.  There  is  a  large  looking- 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  131 

glass  in  an  ebony  frame,  and  many  fine  chairs  and  stools, 
and  her  toilet  table  is  covered  with  silk  and  lace,  and 
furnished  with  gilded  bottles  of  orange-flower  water  and 
rose  perfume.  All  the  rooms  are  very  handsome ;  Mrs. 

Cromwell's  ' 

"  That    is    enough.      I    have    often    been    in    Elizabeth 

O 

Cromwell's  room,  both  in  Slepe  House  and  in  Ely.  I  re 
member  its  tent  bed  and  checked  blue-and-white  curtains  ! 
Well,  well — it  is  a  topsy-turvy  world.  You  must  go  and 
see  Matilda  to-morrow.  I  have  been  making  inquiries 
about  the  Jeverys  ;  they  are  what  your  father  calls  '  Trim 
mers,' — neither  one  thing  nor  another.  Pie  is  an  old  soldier, 
and  has  made  use  of  his  wounds  to  excuse  him  from  further 
fighting ;  and  Lady  Jevery  mingles  her  company  so  well 
that  any  party  may  claim  her.  A  girl  so  outspoken  as  her 
niece  iMatilda  will  give  her  trouble." 

In  the  morning  Jane  was  eager  to  pay  her  visit,  and  she 
felt  sure  Matilda  was  as  eager  as  herself;  so  an  hour  before 
noon  she  was  on  her  way  to  Jevery  House.  It  stood 
where  the  busy  tide  of  commerce  and  the  drama  now  rolls 
unceasingly,  close  by  Drury  Lane — a  mansion  nobly  placed 
upon  a  stone  balustraded  terrace,  and  surrounded  by  a  fine 
garden.  In  this  garden  the  old  knight  was  oftenest  found  ; 
here  he  busied  himself  with  his  flowers  and  his  strawberry 
beds,  and  discoursed  with  his  friend  John  Evelyn  about 
roses ;  or  with  that  excellent  person  and  great  virtuoso, 
Mr.  Robert  Boyle,  about  his  newly  invented  air  pump  ;  or 
thoughtfully  went  over  in  his  own  mind  the  scheme  of  the 
new  banking  establishments  just  opened  by  the  City  Gold 
smiths  :  certainly  it  would  be  more  comfortable  to  have  his 
superfluous  money  in  their  care  than  in  his  own  strong 
chests — but  would  it  be  as  safe  ? 

He    was   pondering   this    very  question  in    the  chill,  bare 


1 32  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

walks  of  Jevery  House  when  Jane's  carnage  stopped  at 
its  iron  gates.  She  had  been  delayed  and  almost  upset  in 
Drury  Lane  by  the  deep  mud,  so  that  the  noon  hour  was 
striking  as  Sir  Thomas  Jevery  met  and  courteously  walked 
with  her  to  the  entrance  hall.  Here  there  were  a  number 
of  servants,  and  their  chief  ushered  her  into  a  stately  cedar 
salon  the  walls  of  which  were  painted  with  the  history  of  the 
Giants'  war.  But  she  hardly  noticed  these  storied  panels, 
for  above  the. mantel  there  was  a  picture  which  immediately 
arrested  her  attention.  It  was  a  portrait  of  Oliver  Crom 
well,  the  rugged,  powerful  face  standing  out  with  terrible 
force  amid  the  faces  of  Pym,  Laud,  Hampden,  Strafford  and 
Montrose.  With  the  countenances  of  all  but  Montrose 
Jane  was  familiar,  and  she  regarded  this  unknown  face  with 
the  most  intense  interest.  It  was  one  not  to  be  ignored, 
and  having  been  seen,  never  to  be  forgotten — a  face  on  the 
verge  of  being  ugly,  and  yet  so  proudly  passionate,  so  true, 
so  strong  that  it  left  on  Jane's  mind  the  assurance  of  a  soul 
worthy  of  honour. 

She  was  standing  gazing  at  it  and  quite  oblivious  of  the 
Florentine  curtains,  the  Venetian  crystal,  and  French  por 
celain,  when  Delia  came  hurriedly  into  the  room  with  an 
exclamation  of  delight.  "  Oh,  Miss  Swaffham  !  Oh,  Miss 
Jane  !  "  she  cried.  "  My  lady  is  impatient  to  see  you. 
Will  you  kindly  come  to  her  room  ?  She  has  been  ill,  oh, 
very  ill !  and  you  were  always  the  one  she  called  for  !  "  So 
saying,  she  led  Jane  up  a  magnificent  stairway  lined  with 
portraits,  mostly  by  Holbein  and  Vandyke,  and  they  soon 
reached  Matilda's  apartment.  As  the  door  opened  she  rose 
and  stretched  out  her  arms. 

"  Baggage  !  "  she  cried  with  a  weak,  hysterical  laugh. 
"  You  dear  little  baggage  !  You  best,  truest  heart  !  How 
glad  I  am  to  see  you  !  " 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  133 

And  Jane  took  her  in  her  arms,  and  both  girls  cried  a  lit 
tle  before  they  could  speak.  Matilda  was  so  weak,  and 
Jane  so  shocked  to  see  the  change  in  her  friend's  appear 
ance,  that  for  a  few  moments  tears  were  the  only  possible 
speech.  At  length  Jane  said  : 

"  You  have  been  ill,  and  you  never  sent  for  me.  I 
would  have  stayed  by  you  night  and  day.  I  would  have 
been  mother  and  sister  both.  Oh,  indeed,  my  mother  would 
have  come  to  you,  without  doubt !  Why  did  you  not  let 
us  know  ?  " 

u  I  have  only  been  in  London  three  days.  I  was  ill  at 
de  Wick.  I  became  unconscious  at  my  father's  burial. 
We  had  heard  that  day  that  Stephen  had  been  shot  while 
trying  to  reach  the  coast.  It  was  the  last  thino-  I  could 

C1  O 

bear." 

"  But  I  assure  you  Stephen  is  at  The  Hague.  Doctor 
Verity  said  so,  and  he  said  it  not  without  knowledge." 

"  I  know  now  that  it  was  a  false  report,  but  at  the  time 
I  believed  it  true.  My  father  was  lying  waiting  for  burial, 
so  was  Father  Sacy,  and  Lord  Hillier's  chaplain  came  over 
to  read  the  service.  It  was  read  at  midnight  in  the  old 

O 

chapel  at  de  Wick.  We  did  not  wish  any  trouble  at  the 
last,  and  we  had  been  told  the  service  would  be  forbidden  ; 
so  we  had  the  funeral  when  our  enemies  were  asleep.  You 
know  the  old  chapel,  Jane,  where  all  the  de  Wicks  are 
buried  ?  " 

u  Yes,  dear  ;  a  mournful,  desolate  place." 

"  A  place  of  graves,  but  it  felt  as  if  it  was  crowded  that 
midnight.  I'll  swear  that  there  were  more  present  than  we 
had  knowledge  of.  The  lanterns  made  a  dim  light  round 
the  crumbling  altar,  and  I  could  just  see  the  two  open 
graves  before  it.  Eather  Olney  wept  as  he  read  the  service; 
we  all  wept,  as  the  bodies  were  laid  in  their  graves ;  and 


i34  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

then  our  old  lawyer,  William  Studley,  put  into  Father 
Olney's  hands  the  de  Wick  coat  of  arms,  and  he  broke  it  in 
pieces  and  cast  the  fragments  on  my  father's  coffin  ;  for  we 
all  believed  that  the  last  male  de  Wick  was  dead.  And 
when  I  heard  the  broken  arms  fall  on  the  coffin,  I  heard  no 
more.  I  fell  senseless,  and  they  carried  me  to  my  own 
room,  and  I  was  out  of  my  mind  for  many  days.  My  aunt 
and  Delia  were  very  kind  to  me,  but  I  longed  for  you, 
Jane,  I  did  indeed.  I  am  nearly  well  now,  and  I  have  left 
my  heartache  somewhere  in  that  awful  land  of  Silence 
where  I  lay  between  life  and  death  so  long.  I  shall  weep 
no  more.  I  will  think  now  of  vengeance.  I  am  only 
a  woman,  but  women  have  done  some  mischief  before  this 
day,  and  may  do  it  again." 

"  Tonbert  and  Will  are  now  at  SwarTham  ;  they  will 
keep  a  watch  on  de  Wick  if  you  wish  it." 

"  I  suppose  I  have  left  de  Wick  forever ;  and  I  could 
weep,  if  I  had  tears  left,  for  the  ill  fortune  that  has  come 
to  the  old  place.  You  remember  Anthony  Lynn,  the  tan 
ner  and  carrier,  Jane  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  He  has  bought  de  Wick  from  the  so-called  Parliament. 
He  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  he  knew  his  place;  but  on 
my  faith  !  I  nearly  lost  my  senses  when  I  saw  him  sitting 
in  my  father's  chair.  Well,  then,  I  am  now  in  London,  and 
all  roads  lead  from  London.  I  shall  not  longer  spoil  my 
eyes  for  the  Fen  country,  and 

"  '  De  Wick,  God  knows, 
Where  no  corn  grows, 
Nothing  but  a  little  hay, 
And  the  water  comes 
And  takes  all  away.' 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  135 

You  remember  the  old  rhyme  ;  we  threw  it  at  one  another 
often  when  we  were  children.  But  oh,  Jane,  the  melan 
choly  Ouse  country  !  The  black,  melancholy  Ouse,  with 
its  sullen  water  and  muddy  banks.  No  wonder  men  turned 
traitors  in  it." 

And  Jane  only  leaned  close,  and  closer  to  the  sad,  sick 
girl.  She  understood  that  Matilda  must  complain  a  little,  and 
she  was  not  unwilling  to  let  the  dreary  meadows  of  the 
Ouse  bear  the  burden.  So  the  short  afternoon  wore  away 
to  Jane's  tender  ministrations  without  one  cross  word. 
Early  in  her  visit  she  had  yielded  to  Matilda's  entreaties, 
had  sent  home  her  carriage,  and  promised  to  remain  all 
night.  And  when  they  had  eaten  together,  and  talked 
of  many  things  and  many  people,  Matilda  was  weary  ;  and 
Jane  dismissed  Delia,  and  herself  undressed  her  friend  as 
tenderly  as  a  mother  could  have  done  ;  and  when  the  tired 
head  was  laid  on  the  pillow,  she  put  her  arms  under  it  and 
kissed  and  drew  the  happy,,  grateful  girl  to  her  heart. 

"  Sweet  little  Jane  !  "  sighed  Matilda  ;  "  how  I  love  you  ! 
Now  read  me  a  prayer  from  the  evening  service,  and  the 
prayer  for  those  at  sea — you  won't  mind  doing  that,  eh, 
Jane  ?  " 

And  after  a  moment's  hesitation  Jane  lifted  the  inter 
dicted  book,  and  taking  Matilda's  hand  in  hers,  she  knelt  by 
her  side  and  read  the  forbidden  supplications  ;  and  then 
Matilda  slept,  and  Jane  put  out  the  candles  and  sat  silently 
by  the  fire,  pondering  the  things  that  had  befallen  her 
friends  and  acquaintances.  The  strangeness  of  the  house, 
the  sleeping  girl,  the  booming  of  the  city's  clocks  and  bells, 
and  the  other  unusual  sounds  of  her  position  filled  her 
heart  with  a  vague  dream-like  sense  of  something  far  off 
and  unreal.  And  mingling  with  all  sounds  and  sights,  not 
to  be  put  away  from  thought  or  presence,  was  that  strange 


136  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

powerful  picture  in  the  salon — the  terrible  force  of  Crom 
well's  face  and  attitude  as  he  seemed  to  stride  forward  from 
the  group  ;  and  the  unearthly  passion  and  enthusiasm  of  the 
unknown,  just  a  step  behind  him,  would  not  be  forgotten. 
She  saw  them  in  the  flickering  flame  and  in  the  shadowy 
corners,  and  they  were  a  haunting  presence  she  tried  in  vain 
to  deliver  herself  from. 

So  she  was  glad  when  she  turned  around  to  find  Matilda 
awake,  and  she  went  to  her  side,  and  said  some  of  those 
sweet,  foolish  words  which  alas  !  too  often  become  a  for 
gotten  tongue.  Matilda  answered  them  in  the  same  tender, 
broken  patois — "  Dear  heart !  Sweet  heart !  Darling  Jane  ! 
Go  to  the  little  drawer  in  my  toilet  table  and  bring  me  a 
picture  you  will  find  there.  It  is  in  an  ivory  box,  Jane, 
and  here  is  the  key."  And  Jane  went  and  found  the 
miniature  she  had  once  got  a  glimpse  of,  and  she  laid  it  in 
Matilda's  hand.  And  the  girl  kissed  it  and  said,  "  Look 
here,  Jane,  and  tell  me  who  it  is." 

Then  Jane  looked  earnestly  at  the  handsome,  melan 
choly,  haughty  face ;  at  the  black  hair  cut  straight  across 
the  brows  and  flowing  in  curls  over  the  laced  collar  and 

O 

steel  corselet,  and  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  Matilda's  but 
she  did  not  like  to  speak.  Matilda  smiled  rapturously  and 
said, 

"  It  is  not  impossible,  Jane,  though  I  see  you  think  so. 
He  loves  me.  He  has  vowed  to  marry  me,  or  to  marry  no 
one  else." 

"  And  you  ?  " 

"  Could  I  help  loving  him  ?  I  was  just  sixteen  when  we 
first  met.  I  gave  my  heart  to  him.  I  adored  him.  He 
was  worthy  of  it.  I  adore  him  yet.  He  is  still  more 
worthy  of  it." 

"  But — but — he  cannot  marry  you.      He  will  not  be  al- 


ON  THE  TIDE  TOP  137 

lowed.  Half-a-dozen  kings  and  queens  would  rise  up  to 
prevent  it  — for  I  am  sure  I  know  the  face." 

"  Who  is  it,  Jane  ?  Whisper  the  words  to  me.  Who 
is  it,  dear  heart  ?  "  And  Jane  stooped  to  the  face  on  the 
pillow  and  whispered, 

"  Prince  Rupert" 

And  as  the  name  fell  on  her  ear,  Matilda's  face  grew 
heavenly  sweet  and  tender,  she  smiled  and  sighed,  and 
softly  echoed  Jane's  last  word  — 

"  Rupert" 


CHAPTER  VII 

TWO    LOVE     AFFAIRS 

"  Justice,  the  Queen  of  Virtues  ! 
All  other  virtues  dwell  but  in  the  blood, 
That  in  the  soul;  and  gives  the  name  of  good." 


"  The  wise  and  active  conquer  difficulties 
By  daring  to  attempt  them.      Fear  and  Folly 
Shiver  and  shrink  at  sight  of  wrong  and  hazard, 
And  make  the  impossibility  they  fear." 

MATILDA'S  confession  brought  on  a  conversation  which 
lasted  many  hours.  The  seal  of  silence  having  been 
broken,  the  sick  and  sorrowful  girl  eagerly  took  the  conso 
lation  her  confidence  procured  her.  She  related  with  an 
impulsive  frankness  —  often  with  bitter,  though  healing 
tears  —  the  story  of  her  love  for  the  gallant  Royalist  leader. 
"  He  came  first  when  I  was  yet  a  girl  at  my  lessons,"  she 
said,  "  but  my  governess  had  told  me  such  wonderful  things 
of  him,  that  he  was  like  a  god  to  me.  You  must  know, 
Jane,  that  he  is  exceedingly  tall  and  warlike,  his  black  hair 
is  cut  straight  across  his  brows,  and  flows  in  curls  upon  his 
shining  armour.  And  he  is  always  splendidly  dressed." 

"  Indeed,  all  have  heard  of  his  rich  clothing  ;  even  the 
laced  cravats  are  called  after  him." 

"  See  how  people  talk  for  nothing.  Rupert's  laced 
cravat  was  a  necessity,  not  a  vanity.  He  told  me  himself, 
that  being  out  very  early  drilling  his  men,  he  took  a  sore 

138 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  139 

throat,  and  having  no  other  covering,  he  drew  his  laced 
kerchief  from  his  pocket  and  tied  it  round  his  neck. 
And  his  officers,  seeing  how  well  it  became  him,  must 

*  O  ' 

needs  also  get  themselves  laced  neckerchiefs ;  and  then 
civilians,  as  is  their  way,  followed  the  custom.  But  who 
could  look  as  Rupert  looked  ?  the  most  beautiful,  the  most 
soldierlike  man  in  England." 

"  I  might  question  that  opinion,  Matilda.  I  might  say 
there  is  your  brother  Stephen — or " 

"Or  Lord  Cluny  Neville,  or  many  others;  but  let  the 
question  go,  Jane.  I  had  given  my  heart  to  Prince  Rupert 
before  I  knew  what  love  was  ;  but  one  day — it  was  my 
sixteenth  birthday — we  were  walking  in  de  Wick  Park,  and 
the  Hawthorns  were  in  flower — I  can  smell  them  now,  it 
was  the  very  scent  of  Paradise  ;  and  he  said  such  words  as 
seemed  to  float  upon  their  sweetness,  and  they  rilled  my 
heart  till  I  could  have  cried  for  pure  happiness.  The 
green  turf  was  white  with  flowers,  and  the  birds  sang 
above  us,  and  if  heaven  can  come  to  earth,  we  were  in 
heaven  that  dear  spring  morning.  And  as  truly  as  I  loved 
him,  so  he  loved  me;  and  that  is  something  to  make  all  my 
life  beautiful.  I  have  been  loved  !  I  have  been  loved  ! 
even  if  I  see  him  no  more,  I  have  been  loved  !  and  by  the 
noblest  prince  that  ever  drew  a  righteous  sword.  This  is 
the  one  joy  left  me." 

u  But,  Matilda,  it  was  a  secret  joy,  and  it  could  not  be 
right.  What  would  your  father  and  mother  have  said  ?  " 

"  You  think  wrong  too  readily,  Jane.  When  Rupert 
had  told  me  how  dear  I  was  to  him,  he  went  to  my  parents. 
He  said  to  them,  as  he  held  my  hand,  '  Earl  and  Countess 
de  Wick,  with  your  permission,  this  is  my  Princess  ;  '- 
and  they  were  glad  and  proud,  for  they  loved  Rupert,  and 
my  brothers,  who  were  in  his  troop,  adored  him.  As  for 


i  .«ro  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

me,  when  Rupert  said  '  Matilda,'  I  was  in  an  ecstasy  ;  and 
if  he  took  my  hand  I  trembled  with  delight.  I  was  so 
happy  !  So  happy  !  For  those  heavenly  hours  I  will 
thank  God  all  my  life  long." 

"  But  I  see  not  how,  even  with  your  father's  and 
mother's  consent,  you  could  hope  to  marry  Prince  Rupert. 
Kings  and  queens  would  be  against  it." 

"Indeed,  it  was  a  most  likely  consummation.  The 
Prince  came  to  de  Wick  to  arrange  loans  for  the  King. 
You  must  have  heard  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  war  my 
father  had  great  wealth  which  he  had  made  by  joining  in 
Sir  Thomas  Jevery's  East  and  West  Indian  ventures.  He 
was  glad  to  let  King  Charles  have  money,  and  a  great  deal 
of  gold  was  sent,  from  time  to  time,  as  the  King  needed  it. 
And  when  the  war  was  over,  my  father  was  to  have  all  his 
loans  back,  and  also  be  raised  to  the  rank  of  a  Duke.  And 
in  those  days  we  never  doubted  that  the  King  would  win  ; 
not  till  Dunbar,  not  till  after  cruel  Worcester,  did  we  lose 
hope.  And  surely  you  can  see  that  an  English  Duke's 
daughter,  with  a  large  fortune  in  money,  would  be  a  suit 
able  match  for  one  of  the  Palatine  Princes.  Rupert  is 
poor,  Jane,  his  sword  is  his  only  fortune.  And  moreover, 
Rupert's  mother  and  brothers  have  been  in  terror  lest  he 
marry  a  papist.  But  as  for  me — you  know  that  I  would 
die,  yes,  I  would  burn  for  my  Bible  and  Book  of  Common 
Prayer.  More  than  this,  the  King  was  pleased  at  our  en 
gagement,  and  sent  me  a  jewel  in  token  of  it.  Alas,  it  has 
been  an  unlucky  jewel !  I  have  had  only  sorrow  since  it 
came  to  me." 

"  I  would  get  quit  of  it." 

"It  is  too  beautiful.  And  when  the  poor  King  is  dead  ! 
Oh,  dear  me  !  I  could  not  bear  to  part  with  it  Do  you 
wonder  now  that  the  news  of  Dunbar  made  me  so  cross 


"THE    HAWTHORNS    WERE    IN    FLOWER. 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  14 1 

and  sad,  and  that  I  was  distraught-- past  myself — after 
Worcester  ?  All  was  lost  that  fatal  night." 

"  J  do  not  wonder,  but  — 

"  Say  you  are  sorry,  plain  out,  Jane.  I  am  past  disguise 
with  you,  now,  and  must  ask  your  pity.  Think  of  my 
father  and  mother  dead  of  grief,  and  of  my  three  brothers, 
— two  slain  in  battle,  one  wandering,  I  know  not  where. 
Remember  that  with  my  father's  death,  died  all  hope  of  the 
loaned  money  and  the  dukedom  to  the  family,  and  all  my 
own  hopes  regarding  my  lover.  For  without  money  and 
rank,  I  would  be  no  bride  for  Prince  Rupert ;  a  milkmaid 
were  as  fit.  And  when  father  had  been  three  days  in  his 
grave,  and  I  lay  at  point  of  death,  Anthony  Lynn  came 
with  his  Parliamentary  title  to  our  house  and  lands.  I  was 
at  his  mercy,  at  his  charity,  Jane." 

"  Well,  and  if  so,  many  favours  he  and  his  have  re 
ceived  from  your  family.  All  he  is  worth  he  owes  to  your 
father." 

"  He  was  kind  and  respectful ;  I  am  very  sensible  of 
that.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to  count  past  benefits,  Jane ;  'tis 
like  remembering  eaten  bread.  If  Anthony  thought  of  my 
father's  help,  'tis  more  than  can  be  believed.  But  for  my 
jewels,  I  am  a  very  pauper — a  dependent  on  Sir  Thomas 
Jevery." 

"  He  was  your  father's  friend  and  partner  in  business — 
he  is  the  husband  of  your  aunt." 

"  'Tis  confest ;  but  for  all  that,  I  am  here  by  his  charity." 

u  Your  aunt  r  " 

"  My  aunt  lives  in  the  atmosphere  of  Sir  Thomas' 
whims  and  wishes.  What  she  will  think,  what  she  will  do, 
depends  upon  what  he  thinks  and  what  he  does." 

u  'Tis  commonly  said  that  he  is  devoted  to  her." 

"  He  loves    her   after   the  ordinary  rate  of  husbands,  I'll 


i42  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

warrant."  Then,  speaking  with  her  old  peremptoriness,  she 
said  suddenly,  "  But  for  God's  sake  let  me  ask  when  you 
heard  anything  of  Prince  Rupert  ?  Oh,  Jane,  I  am  sick 
with  heart-hunger  for  some  small  intelligence  of  his  doings 
or  his  whereabouts." 

"  He  has  rilled  the  news-letters  and  papers  lately." 

"  But  I  am  not  suffered  to  see  them.  'Tis  pretended 
they  will  make  oie  ill ;  and  Sir  Thomas  vowed  when  the 
doctor  gave  the  order,  that  he  was  glad  on  it,  and  that  he 
had  long  wanted  an  excuse  to  keep  the  pernicious  sheets 
outside  of  his  house.  So,  then,  I  hear  nothing,  and  if  I  did 
hear,  twenty  to  one  I  would  be  the  better  of  it." 

"  I  think  you  would,  Matilda.  What  is  harder  to  bear 
than  trouble  that  is  not  sure  ?  Still,  to  be  the  messenger  of 
ill  news  is  an  ungrateful  office." 

"  Any  news  will  be  grateful ;  be  so  much  my  friend, 
dear  Jane,  as  to  tell  me  all  you  have  heard." 

"  You  know  that  he  was  made  Admiral  of  the  Royalist 
Navy  ;  but,  indeed,  he  is  said  to  be  nothing  else  but  a  pirate, 
robbing  all  ships  that  he  may  support  the  Stuart  family  at 
The  Hague.  No  sail  could  leave  British  waters  without  be 
ing  attacked  by  him,  until  Blake  drove  him  to  the  African 
coast  and  the  West  Indies." 

"  He  is  the  bread-finder  of  the  King  as  well  as  his  de 
fender.  So  much  I  knew,  and  'tis  well  done  in  him." 

"The  latest  news  is  the  drowning  of  Prince  Maurice." 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  news.  Rupert  loved  this  brother 
of  his  so  tenderly.  They  were  not  happy  apart.  Poor 
Rupert !  His  last  letter  said,  '  he  was  kept  waking  with 
constant  troubles '  ;  this  will  be  a  crowning  misfortune. 
Sir  Hugh  Belward  told  me  that  his  disasters  have  followed 
one  on  the  heels  of  the  other  ;  that  he  had  no  port,  and 
that  poverty,  despair  and  revenge  alone  guided  his  course." 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  143 

"  Sir  Hugh  Belward  !  Was  he  not  the  companion  of 
your  brother  Stephen — that  night  ?  ' 

"  Yes.  He  is  now  at  The  Hague  with  the  King,  and  he 
has  been  over  on  secret  affairs.  I  saw  him  at  cle  Wick  the 
day  before  I  left.  He  was  so  shocked  at  my  appearance 
that  he  burst  out  weeping,  and  knelt  down  and  kissed  my 
hands.  Aunt  begged  him  to  leave  my  presence,  for  indeed  I 
was  like  to  faint  away." 

"  Then  you  must  have  heard  all  about  the  doings  of 
Prince  Rupert  ?  " 

"  I  had  not  heard  of  the  drowning  of  Prince  Maurice. 
That  affliction  will  bring  Rupert  to  shore,  and  then  what 
will  the  King  do  for  money  ?  " 

"  He  is  said  now  to  be  in  great  need  of  it,  though  Prince 
Rupert  sent  home  a  rich  prize  this  past  summer ;  and  'tis 
further  said  he  resigned  his  own  share  of  it  to  his  cousin, 
Charles  Stuart." 

"  'Twould  be  most  like  him." 

"  Some  English  sailors  taken  on  a  prize  were  put  on  one 
of  the  Royalist  ships,  and  they  overpowered  her  officers,  and 
brought  the  ship  to  London  a  few  days  ago.  I  like  not  to  tell 
you  what  they  said  of  Prince  Rupert  to  the  Parliament." 

"  It  will  not  vex  me,  Jane.  Evil  is  said  of  people  so  uni 
versally  that  no  one  is  hurt  by  it." 

"  They  declared,  then,  that  the  delight  of  Prince  Rupert 
and  his  crews  was  in  swearing  and  plundering,  and  in 
sinking  all  English  shins  they  could  lay  their  talons  on  ; 
but  also,  they  added  to  this  account,  that  there  was  a  chap 
lain  on  the  Admiral's  ship,  and  that  they  rode  still  on  Sun 
days,  and  did  the  duties  of  the  day  in  the  best  manner  they 
could — the  same  at  evening.  Many  believed  not  this  re 
port,  and  many  made  a  mock  at,  what  they  conclude,  is  a 
travesty  of  true  worship." 


i44  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  Indeed,  Jane,  the  Puritans  have  not  all  the  religion  in 
the  world,  though  they  think  so.  However,  if  Prince 
Maurice  be  dead,  I  am  sure  that  Rupert  will  not  keep  the 
high  seas  wanting  him.  Thank  you  for  this  intelligence, 
Jane.  'Twill  be  some  comfort  to  hear  that  Rupert  is  on 
dry  land  again." 

This  conversation  had  many  asides  and  deviations,  and 
the  night  was  far  spent  when  Matilda  was  willing  to  sleep. 
And  in  the  morning,  while  they  eat  breakfast  together,  the 
subject  was  renewed  ;  for  sorrow  is  selfish,  and  Matilda 
forgot  that  she  had  never  even  asked  after  the  welfare  of 
Jane's  family.  As  they  talked,  Lady  Jevery  joined  them. 
She  bid  Delia  bring  her  some  capon  and  white  wine,  and 
then  thanked  Jane  for  her  visit,  adding  — 

"  I  have  brought  you  the  key  to  my  private  entrance. 
It  will  admit  you  to  Matilda's  apartments  when  you  wish, 
without  the  delays  of  a  formal  reception  ;  and  'twill  be  the 
greatest  token  of  kindness  if  you  come  often." 

She  spoke  gently,  and  was  soft  and  moth-like  in  all  her 
movements,  but  her  affection  for  her  niece  was  unmistak 
able.  While  she  talked,  Jane's  eyes  wandered  over  the 
richly  furnished  room,  noting  its  draperies  of  rose  vel 
vet,  beautifully  painted,  its  carved  bedstead  and  quilted 
satin  coverlet,  its  dressing-table  with  little  gilded  Venetian 
ewers  for  perfumes,  and  India  boxes  for  powders — and  also 
the  fine  breakfast  service  of  French  china  before  her. 
Lady  Jevery's  "  charity  "  to  her  niece  was  certainly  mag 
nificent,  and  Jane  felt  no  anxiety  concerning  her  friend's 
material  comforts. 

She  returned  to  her  home  soon  after  breakfast,  and  her 
mother  met  her  with  a  smiling  face.  "  I  was  going  to 
send  the  coach  for  you,"  she  said,  "  for  there  is  to  be 
company  to-night;  "  and  then  she  looked  at  Jane  so  intel- 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  145 

ligently  that  the  girl  understood  at  once  what  was  meant. 

"  Is  it  Cluny  ?  "  she  asked,  blushing  brightly. 

"  Yes.  He  has  asked  for  an  interview  with  your  father, 
and  I  suppose  that  it  is  granted,  for  I  was  told  of  the  mat 
ter." 

"  Mother,  dear,  you  will  speak  in  our  favour  ?  " 

u  If  needs  be,  Jane.  But  I  am  of  this  opinion — some 
one  has  spoken  already." 

"  Do  you  mean  the  Lord  General  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  he  has  said  the  two  or  three 
words  that  would  move  your  father  more  than  any  woman's 
talk  or  tears.  Keep  your  bravery,  Jane  ;  father  likes 
women  that  stand  up  for  themselves.  When  we  were  first 
married,  I  tried  crying  for  my  way,  and  I  never  got  it.  It 
is  a  deal  better  with  men  like  your  father  and  brothers  to 
stand  up  for  your  rights.  They  know  what  that  means, 
but  they  think  a  crying  woman  is  trying  to  get  the  better 
of  them." 

Jane  understood  this  advice,  and  she  was  not  a  girl  in 
clined  to  cry  for  her  way  or  her  wish,  yet  she  was  glad  to 
be  thus  early  warned  of  the  stand  she  might  have  to  take. 
After  all,  it  was  one  so  loving  and  simple,  so  well  defined 
in  her  own  mind,  and  so  positively  accepted,  that  there  was 
little  need  for  preparation. 

"  I  have  made  a  resolve  to  marry  Cluny,  if  Cluny  be  of 
the  same  mind,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  and  I  have  made  a 
resolve  to  marry  no  one  else,  whether  Cluny  be  of  the  same 
mind  or  not.  I  will  let  no  one  impose  a  husband  on  me. 
This  thing  I  will  stand  boldly  for;  it  has  the  witness  of  my 
heart,  and  love  is  too  great  to  need  lying  or  deceit." 

It  was  evening  when  Cluny  came,  and  he  was  taken  at 
once  to  the  room  in  which  General  Swaffham  was  smoking 
his  good-night  pipe.  He  looked  steadily  at  the  young  man 


146  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

as  he  entered,  but  the  look  was  one  of  inquiry  and  observa 
tion  rather  than  of  displeasure. 

"  Good-evening,  sir,"  he  answered  to  Cluny's  greeting. 
"  Sit  down.  You  have  requested  speech  with  me ;  talk 
straight  out  then." 

"  I  am  here,  General,  to  ask  for  your  daughter's  hand. 
I  love  her." 

"  Come,  come,  Lord  Neville  !  Do  you  expect  to  drive 
the  wedge  head  foremost  ?  Ere  you  ask  so  great  a  gift, 
give  me  some  good  reasons  for  expecting  it." 

"We  love  each  other,  sir." 

"  So  !  but  you  must  forethink,  and  straightforward  is  the 
best  course.  You  cannot  live  on  love — you  two.  No, 
sir  !  " 

"  I  have  my  sword  and  the  Lord  General's  favour. 
And  my  mother  left  me  an  estate  in  Fifeshire.  'Tis  no 
great  matter,  but  it  is  between  me  and  the  wolf's  mouth." 

"Very  good  for  a  young  man;  for  a  married  man,  very 
poor.  If  you  were  wanting  to  know  how  in  God's  name 
you  were  to  provide  for  your  household  and  pay  your  debts, 
would  it  do  to  ask  your  sword,  or  to  send  to  Fifeshire — or 
to  the  stars — for  the  gold  ?  That  is  a  father's  question, 
sir." 

"  It  is  a  lover's  also.  I  have  enough  for  our  necessities, 
and  somewhat  for  our  comfort, — and  we  are  both  willing  to 
take  love  as  security  for  our  contentment."  And  though 
the  words  were  such  ordinary  ones,  the  young  man's  heart 
throbbed  in  them,  and  the  father  felt  it. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  answered, "  yet  I  could  wish  you  were 
altogether  an  Englishman." 

"  My  mother  was  of  a  noble  Scotch  family,  the  Cupars 
of  Fife.  I  would  not  willingly  lose  anything  she  gave  me, 
sir." 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  147 

"  Lord  Neville,  I  have  seen  the  Scots  in  the  late  un 
happy  war,  enough  of  them,  and  more  than  enough — greedy 
creatures,  never  losing  sight  of  the  spoil.  I  saw  a  good 
deal  of  the  country  also — beggary,  nakedness,  hunger,  ever 
lasting  spite,  envy  and  quarreling.  But  in  every  land  God 
has  His  elect  and  reserve,  and  I  doubt  not  that  Lady 
Neville  was  among  them." 

"  She  was  the  purest-hearted  of  women.  A  word  against 
her  goes  to  my  heart  like  a  sword." 

"  Nay,  nay,  I  meant  no  unkindness  in  particular ;  I 
spoke  of  generalities.  You  are  not  a  Scot,  but  I  hear  that 
you  arc  a  Presbyterian.  If  you  marry  my  daughter,  I  wish 
you  to  become  an  Independent." 

"  'Twould  be  an  impossible  thing,  sir.  I  sucked  Pres- 
byterianism  in  my  mother's  milk.  Even  in  heaven,  it 
would  grieve  her  to  know  I  had  become  an  apostate." 

"  An  apostate  !  The  veriest  nonsense.  There  is  not 
an  ounce  of  difference  between  a  Presbyterian  and  an  Inde 
pendent — but  the  ounce  is  the  salt  and  the  savour.  You 
will  become  an  Independent.  The  Lord  General  is  an  In 
dependent." 

"  He  never  asked  me  to  become  one." 

"You  never  asked  him  for  his  daughter,  his  youngest 
child,  his  darling." 

"  p'orgive  me,  sir  ;  Mistress  Swaffham  has  no  objection 
to  my  faith." 

u  Because,  if  men  have  not  every  good  quality,  some 
woman  invents  all  they  lack  for  them.  Mistress  Swaffham 
assures  herself  she  can  change  your  creed." 

"I  hope  that  she  judges  me  of  better  mould.  I  can  no 
more  change  a  letter  in  my  creed  than  a  feature  in  my 
face." 

"That  is  John    Knoxism  !      It   won't  do,  Lord  Neville. 


i48  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

If  I  was  asking  you  to  become  a  Fifth  Monarchy  Man,  or 
one  of  those  unbaptised,  buttonless  hypocrites,  who  call 
themselves  Quakers,  you  might  talk  about  the  letters  of 
your  creed.  Pooh  !  Pooh  !  " 

"  Sir,  not  for  any  woman  born,  will  a  man,  worth  the 
name  of  a  man,  give  up  his  creed  or  his  country.  Mistress 
Swaffham  would  not  ask  this  thing  of  me.  She  takes  me 
as  I  am.  I  love  her  with  all  my  soul.  To  the  end  of  our 
life  days,  I  will  love  and  cherish  her.  Whether  you  credit 
me  thus  far,  or  not,  I  can  say  no  more.  I  am  a  suppliant 
for  your  grace,  and  I  know  well  that  I  have  nothing  worthy 
to  ofter  in  return  for  the  great  favour  I  ask  from  you." 

Dauntless,  but  not  overbold,  the  fine,  expressive  face  of 
the  suppliant  was  very  persuasive.  General  Swaft  ham 
looked  at  him  silently  for  a  few  moments  and  then  said, 
"  I  will  not  be  unkind  to  either  you  or  my  daughter ;  but 
there  must  be  no  leap  in  the  dark,  or  in  a  hurry.  Take 
five  years  to  learn  how  to  live  together  fifty  years.  At  the 
end  of  five  years,  if  you  are  both  of  a  mind,  I  will  do  all 
I  can  for  your  welfare." 

"  Your  goodness  is  very  great,  sir ;  make  it  more  so  by 
bringing  it  nearer  to  us.  Five  years  is  a  long  time  out  of 
life." 

"  That  is  what  youth  thinks.  Five  years'  service  for 
fifty  years  of  happiness.  You  gave  your  teachers  far  more 
time  to  prepare  you  for  life.  Now  go  to  school  five  years, 
for  love.  I  waited  six  years  for  my  wife  ;  Jacob  waited 
fourteen  for  Rachel." 

"  Sir,  we  live  not  by  centuries,  as  Jacob  did — if  it  would 
please  you  to  say  two  years." 

"  I  have  said  five,  and  verily  it  shall  be  five  ;  unless  these 
strange  times  bring  us  some  greater  stress  or  hurry  than  is 
now  evident.  Cannot  you  wait  and  serve  for  five  years  ? 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  149 

If  not,  your  love  is  but  a  summer  fruit,  and  Jane  SwafFham 
is  worthy  of  something  better." 

j  O 

"  Sir,  I  entreat.  I  am  no  coward,  but  I  cannot  bear  to 
think  of  five  years." 

"  I  have  said  my  say.  There  is  nothing  to  add  or  to 
take  from  it — save,  to  remind  you,  Lord  Neville,  that  there 
is  more  heroism  in  self-denial  than  in  battle." 

Then  Cluny  perceived  that  entreaty  would  only  weaken 
his  cause,  and  he  advanced  and  offered  his  hand,  saying,  "  1 
am  much  in  your  debt,  sir.  'Tis  more  than  I  deserve,  but 
Love  must  always  beg  more  than  his  desert."  And  General 
Swaft  ham  stood  up  and  held  the  slim  brown  hand  a  moment. 
He  was  moved  beyond  his  own  knowledge,  for  his  voice 
trembled  perceptibly  as  he  answered  — 

"•  You  have  time  and  opportunity  to  win  your  way  to  my 
heart,  then  I  will  give  you  a  son's  place.  Go  and  ask 
Jane;  she  will  tell  you  I  have  done  kindly  and  wisely." 
And  Cluny  bowed  and  went  silently  to  seek  his  betrothed. 

There  was  a  sense  of  disappointment  in  his  heart.  Per 
haps  also  an  unavoidable  fe^lr'.g  of  offense.  The  Lord 
General  had  looked  in':o  his  fcce  rind  trusted  him ;  yea, 
about  great  affairs,  public  and  private.  He  had  asked  no 
five  years'  trial  of  his  honour  and  honesty  ;  and  such 
thought  gave  an  air  of  dissatisfaction  and  haughtiness  to 
the  young  man  that  struck  Jane  unhappily  as  he  entered 
the  room  in  which  she  was  sitting. 

"Your  father  says  we  are  to  wait  five  years,  sweet  Jane  ; 
and  'tis  a  hard  condition.  I  know  not  how  I  am  to  endure 
it." 

And  Jane  smiled  and  began  to  talk  over  with  her  lover 
the  hard  condition,  and  somehow  it  became  an  easy  and 
reasonable  one.  They  soon  saw  it  through  Love  and 
Hope  and  Wisdom,  and  so  at  the  beginning  of  their  pro- 


150  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

bation,  they  rejoiced  in  the  end  of  it.  Cluny  was  hopeful 
of  getting  some  military  appointment  in  Edinburgh,  and 
then  the  estate  that  was  "  no  great  matter "  would  be  a 
home,  at  no  inconvenient  distance.  And  he  described  the 
old  place  with  its  ivy-covered  walls  and  ancient  rooms,  and 
its  garden,  dark  with  foliage,  until  Jane  knew  all  its  beauties 
and  possibilities.  They  were  so  happy  and  so  full  of  happy 
plans,  that  they  were  laughing  cheerfully  together  when  the 
General  came  in  with  his  wife  and  household  for  evening 
prayers.  And  it  touched  and  pleased  Cluny  that  he  was 
mentioned  by  name  in  the  family  petition,  and  so,  as  it 
were,  taken  publicly  and  affectionately  into  it.  He  felt  this 
all  the  more  when  the  servants,  in  leaving  the  room,  in 
cluded  him  in  their  respectful  obeisance  to  their  master  and 
mistress.  It  restored  to  him  the  sense  of  home,  and  he 
carried  that  strength  and  joy  with  him  to  his  duty,  and 
day  by  day  grew  to  more  perfect  manhood  in  it. 

Life  soon  settled  itself  to  the  new  conditions  of  the 
SwafFhams.  The  General,  in  spite  of  his  wife's  and 
daughter's  disapproval,  bought  the  Sandys  House  near 
Russel  Square,  and  some  of  the  most  precious  heirlooms 
of  old  SwafFham  were  brought  up  to  London  to  adorn  it. 
For  it  was  now  certain  that  the  Lord  General  would  not 
agree  to  part  with  his  faithful  friend  and  ally  ;  and,  indeed, 
Swaffham's  influence  in  the  army  could  not  well  be  spared, 
for  it  was  evident  enough  that  there  was  such  ill-will  be 
tween  the  army  and  the  Parliament  as  might  easily  become 
a  very  dangerous  national  condition. 

"  So  we  may  be  here  the  rest  of  our  lives,  Jane,  and  we 
may  as  well  get  our  comforts  round  us,"  said  Mrs.  SwafF- 
ham,  and  there  was  a  tone  of  fret  in  her  voice  she  did  not 
try  to  hide.  "  William  won't  marry  as  a  good  man  should 
at  his  age,"  she  continued,  "  and  Tonbert  thinks  himself 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  151 

too  young  to  wive;  and  Cymlin  is  for  Lady  Matilda  de 
Wick  or  no  other  woman,  and  so  the  dear  old  place  will 
run  to  waste  and  mischief.  And  there  are  the  fine  milch 
cows — and  the  turkeys.  Who  will  attend  to  them  when 
I  am  not  there  to  see  they  get  attention  ?  Nobody." 

"  Will  and  Tonbert  know  how  to  manage,  mother." 

"  Yes,  if  it  comes  to  meadow  and  corn  land,  or  horses, 
or  dogs.  I  am  thinking  of  the  house  and  the  dairy  and  the 
poultry  yard.  Men  don't  bother  themselves  about  such 
things  ;  and  my  boys  won't  marry,  and  my  girls  won't  let 
marrying  alone.  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of 
it  all." 

In  spite  of  her  complaining,  however,  she  was  well 
content  in  London.  Social  by  nature,  fond  of  the  stir  and 
news  of  life,  enjoying  even  the  shadow  of  her  old  friends' 
power  and  splendour,  and  taking  the  greatest  interest  in  all 
public  events  of  the  time,  she  was  pleased  rather  than 
otherwise  at  the  Lord  General's  determination  to  keep  her 
husband  near  him. 

Neither  was  Jane  at  all  averse  to  London.  Cluny  was 
in  London,  and  Matilda  was  there,  and  most  of  the  Lrirls 

>  >  o 

whom  she  ruid  known  all  her  life  long.  And  it  was  not 
difficult  to  adapt  herself  to  the  new  home,  with  its  long  gal 
leries  and  large  rooms  full  of  beautiful  paintings  and  hand 
some  furniture.  The  little  figure  in  its  sober-tinted  raiment 
took  on  a  prouder  poise,  richer  clothing  seemed  necessary 
and  fitting;  and  insensibly,  but  continually,  the  fashion 
of  the  Swaffhams'  life  shook  off  its  rusticitv  and  became 
after  the  manner  of  the  great  Puritan  town  in  which  their 
lot  had  been  cast. 

And  if  Jane  accepted  willingly  this  change  in  life, 
Matilda  took  her  phase  of  it  still  more  enthusiastically. 
She  was  not  long  in  discovering  that  it  was  in  her  power  to 


152  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

be  virtual  mistress  of  the  Jevery  mansion.  Her  youth,  her 
beauty  and  her  many  sorrows  inclined  Sir  Thomas  Jevery's 
heart  to  sympathy,  and  this  prepossession  grew  rapidly  to  de 
voted  affection.  What  the  Lady  Matilda  de  Wick  desired 
became  a  law  in  Jevery  House,  and  Matilda's  desires  were 
not  remarkable  for  their  moderation.  She  had  her  own 
apartments,  her  own  servants,  and  her  own  company  at  her 
own  hours,  and  Sir  Thomas  settled  on  her  an  income 
which  he  pretended  had  been  an  agreement  between  Earl  de 
Wick  and  himself — a  statement  Matilda  neither  inquired 
about  nor  disputed. 

No  stipulations  were  made  concerning  her  friends,  and 
indeed  Sir  Thomas  was  not  averse  to  a  distinct  royalist  party 
in  his  house,  if  it  was  reasonably  prudent.  He  himself 
entertained  all  parties,  affecting  to  be  inclined  to  men 
through  higher  motives  than  political  prejudices.  "  Izaak 
Walton  and  John  Milton,  Mr.  Evelyn  and  Sir  Harry  Vane, 
are  all  equally  welcome  at  my  table,"  he  would  say  ;  "  we 
have  a  common  ground  to  meet  on,  which  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  politics." 

So  Matilda  quickly  outgrew  those  griefs  for  which  there 
was  no  remedy  ;  she  regained  her  health  and  much  of  her 
radiant  beauty,  and  she  spent  many  hours  every  day  in 
adorning  herself.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  had 
money  enough  to  indulge  this  passion,  and  Sir  Thomas 
declared  she  was  in  the  right  to  do  so.  "  A  lovely  woman 
in  a  shabby  gown,"  he  said,  "  is  a  sin  against  nature  ;  she 
is  like  a  queen  without  her  crown  and  robes." 

With  such  encouragement  to  fine  attire,  Matilda  was  not 
sparing  in  her  orders  for  silks  and  brocades,  furs  and  laces, 
and  India  goods  of  all  descriptions.  She  had  inherited  her 
mother's  jewels,  and  she  was  considering  one  morning 
a  string  of  Orient  pearls,  wondering  if  they  could  be 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  153 

wosn  with  her  new  damasse  gown,  when   Jane  entered  her 
dressing-room. 

O 

"Jane  Swaffham,"  she  cried  with  delight,  "  I'll  swear  I 
was  just  wishing  for  you.  But  what  is  the  matter  ?  Are 
you  for  a  funeral  ?  Or — is  there  another  plot  against 
Cromwell's  life  discovered  ?  If  so,  I  am  not  in  it.  I  do  be 
lieve  there  are  tears  in  your  eyes." 

"  Indeed,  all  England  weeps  to-day.  Have  you  not  heard 
that  General  Ireton  is  dead  ?  " 

"  A  just  retribution.  Indeed,  I  will  rejoice  at  it.  More 
than  any  one  else,  more  than  Cromwell  himself,  he  drove 
his  late  Majesty  to  the  scaffold.  He  had  no  pity  for  the 
poor  Queen,  he  was  glad  to  make  her  a  widow.  I  have 
no  pity  for  the  widow  of  Ireton.  Let  her  drink  of  the  cup 
her  husband  tilled  for  a  better  woman.  Let  her  drink  it  to 
the  dregs." 

"  She  lacks  not  any  sympathy  that  can  comfort  so  great  a 
loss  ;  a  loss  public,  as  well  as  personal,  for  my  father  says 
Ireton  was  nearer  to  Cromwell  than  any  other  man — the 
v/isest,  bravest  soldier,  the  truest  patriot " 

u  fane,  do  be  more  sparing  of  your  praises,  or  you  will 
have  none  left  for  your  prime  idol." 

"  I  must  tell  you  that  I  have  new  praises  for  Cromwell. 
1  have  seen  him  this  morning  in  a  strange  light — hold 
ing  his  weeping  daughter  to  his  heart  ;  weeping  with 
her,  praying  with  her;  'tis  said,  'like  as  a  father  pitieth 
his  children,'  but  indeed  Cromwell  was  more  like  a 
mother.  When  I  entered  the  room  Mrs.  Cromwell  told 
Mrs.  Ireton  I  was  present,  and  she  cried  out,  '  Oh,  Jane, 
he  is  dead  !  tic  is  dead  !  '  and  then  Cromwell  with  stream 
ing  eyes  answered  her  in  a  tone  of  triumph — '  Nay,  but 
he  has  PRKVAII.FD,  Bridget.  He  has  prevailed  against 
the  kingdom  of  death  !  Be  comforted,  dear  child.'  I  can- 

D  * 


i54  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

not  tell  you  how  good  it  was  to  be  there — in  the  house  of 
mourning." 

"  I  never  found  it  good,  and  I  was  there  for  years.  But 
with  such  a  brother  as  Stephen,  I  may  be  there  again,  and 
that  soon  enough.  Stephen  keeps  me  on  cracking  ice 
night  and  day." 

"  But  he  is  in  safety  now,  Matilda  ?  " 

"  He  is  never  safe — and  partly  your  fault,  Jane." 

u  I  will  not  credit  that,  and  'tis  a  piece  of  great  unkind- 
ness  to  make  me  accountable." 

"  He  is  always  pining  to  see  you,  and  always  fearing  that 
some  one  is  your  servant  in  his  absence ;  and  so  he  is  will 
ing  to  take  all  risks  if  he  may  but  come  to  England."  Then 
looking  steadily  at  Jane,  she  added,  "  He  is  here  no-w . 
Will  you  see  him  ?  " 

"I  will  not,"  answered  Jane  positively.  "I  will  not 
come  to  question  about  him  if  he  is  discovered.  Do  not 
ask  me  to  put  myself  in  such  a  strait,  Matilda.  It  is  far 
better  I  should  be  able  to  say,  c  I  have  not  seen  him.'  " 

"You  are  a  very  proper,  prudent  young  woman.  I  think 
you  must  have  set  your  heart  on  that  young  sprig  of  a  Puri 
tan  noble  I  saw  at  Swaffham.  What  was  his  name  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  you  have  not  forgotten  it,  but  if  so,  it  is  little 
worth  my  repeating." 

"  As  you  like  it.  I  have  heard  this  and  that  of  him  from 
Mr.  Hartlib  who  is  a  friend  of  that  quarrelsome  John  Mil 
ton.  Mr.  Hartlib  comes  here  frequent.  He  is  full  of 
inventions  ;  only  last  night  he  brought  Uncle  Jevery  one 
for  taking  a  dozen  copies  of  any  writing  at  once,  and  this 
by  means  of  moist  paper  and  an  ink  he  has  made.  I  heard 
of  Lord  Cluny  Neville,  and  of  a  hymn  he  has  written 
which  Mr.  Milton  has  set  to  music.  He  talked  as  if  it 
was  fit  for  the  heavenly  choir.  Something  also  was  said 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  155 

about  his  marrying  Alary  Cromwell.  Fancy  these  things  ! 
Marvels  never  cease." 

"  The  Lady  Mary  Cromwell  may  look  much  higher," 
answered  Jane.  "  Lord  Neville  told  us  that  his  sword  was 
his  fortune." 

"  The  Lady  Mary  may  see,  if  she  looks  at  home,  that  a 
sword  is  a  very  good  fortune.  In  these  unholy  wars,  the 
faithful  saints  have  given  themselves  the  earth — that  is  the 
English  earth — not  to  speak  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and 
such  trifles.  Look  at  it,  Jane,  if  you  have  any  fancies  the 
Neville  way." 

"  If  I  had,  the  Lady  Mary  would  not  trouble  me.  I 
have  seen  them  together :  and  indeed  I  know  that  she  has 

O 

other  dreams." 

"  Perhaps  she  dreams  of  marrying  the  King,  though  he 
is  a  wicked  malignant.  'Tis  said  she  is  the  proudest  minx 
of  them  all." 

"  She  would  not  say  '  tush  !  '  to  a  queen." 

"•  The  great  Oliver  may  lay  his  ten  commandments  on 
her." 

"  How  you  wrong  him  !  His  children  have  all  been  al 
lowed  to  marry  where  their  love  led  them.  And  I  am  sure 
if  the  Lady  Mary  and  Lord  Neville  wished  to  marry,  it 
would  sjive  his  kind  heart  the  greatest  pleasure  to  make 

o  O  i 

them  happy.  Do  you  think  he  loves  riches  or  rank  or 
honours  or  power  ?  I  declare  to  you  that  he  cares  not  a  fig 
for  any  of  them." 

"  Pray,  then,  what  does  he  love  ?  " 

"  First  and  foremost,  he  loves  England.  He  loves  Eng 
land  with  every  breath  he  draws.  England  is  the  word 
graven  on  the  palms  of  his  hands  ;  it  was  the  word  that 
made  his  sword  invincible.  He  loves  the  Protestant  faith, 
which  he  holds  one  with  all  religious  and  civil  freedom. 


156  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

These  two  things  run  with  his  life  blood.  He  loves  his 
wife  and  children  better  than  himself;  he  loves  all  mankind 
— even  Jews  and  Quakers — so  well  that  he  would  make 
them  share  alike  in  all  that  Freedom  means." 

"And  he  hates  — 

"  Every  soul  that  hates  England  ;  every  dealer  in  priest 
craft  or  tyranny ;  every  false  heart,  whether  it  beat  in 
prince  or  ploughman." 

"  I  thank  my  Maker  he  loves  not  me." 

"  But  he  does  love  you." 

"  Let  him  keep  his  regard  until  I  ask  for  it." 

"  That  you  may  do  at  some  time.  'Tis  not  wise  to 
throw  dirt  into  the  well  from  which  you  may  have  to 
drink." 

"Thank  you  for  good  advices,  Jane.  Oh,  'tis  ten 
thousand  pities  you  are  not  a  preacher.  If  you  could  hold 
forth  at  St.  Paul's  Cross  you  might  work  miracles  with  the 
ungodly.  But  all  this  is  beyond  our  bargain  to  let  men  in 
high  places  alone  ;  and  I  was  going  to  tell  you  of  Stephen, 
who  is  here  and  so  well  disguised  I  had  like  to  have  given 
him  the  insult  of  calling  a  lackey  to  kick  him  of?  the  prem 
ises.  Indeed,  he  was  strangely  like  to  Lord  Neville.  It 
was  this  strange  likeness  set  me  thinking  of  Neville." 

"  Strange  indeed,"  answered  Jane,  a  little  scornfully. 

"  You  do  not  ask  why  Stephen  is  here  ?  " 

"  It  concerns  me  not." 

"  Jane,  I  will  tell  you  a  piteous  tale.  'Tis  of  our  late 
Queen.  She  is  so  wretchedly  poor,  and  since  her  son  re 
turned  to  their  miserable  little  court  in  the  Louvre,  so 
broken-hearted  'twould  make  you  weep  to  hear  of  her. 
Stephen  came  with  Sir  Hugh  Belward  to  get  some  money 
on  Belward,  for  though  the  French  government  have 
settled  an  income  on  the  poor  Queen,  they  pay  it  only 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  157 

when  it  seems  good  in  their  own  eyes.  She  is  often  in 
great  need ;  she  is  in  need  now,  in  sore  need  of  every 
comfort." 

"  How  does  Sir  Hugh  Bel  ward  hope  to  get  money  on 
Belward  ?  He  is  proscribed." 

"  His  younger  brother  joined  the  Parliament,  and  he 
left  the  estate  in  his  care.  And  his  brother  has  turned 
traitor  to  him,  and  would  give  him  nothing  but  per 
mission  to  ride  away  as  secretly  as  he  came.  He  has  re 
turned  here  in  a  passion  of  grief  and  anger.  Thus  I  carry 
so  many  troubles  that  are  not  really  mine.  But  oh,  Jane  ! 
the  poor,  poor  Queen  !  :  — and  then  Matilda  went  into  some 
details  of  the  piteous  straits  and  dependencies  and  insults 
the  widowed  woman  had  been  obliged  to  bear. 

Jane  listened  silently,  but  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes  ; 
and  when  Matilda  said,  "  I  have  given  her  the  jewel  the 
gracious  King  sent  me  by  my  beloved  Prince  Rupert,  and 
also,  what  moneys  I  could  get  from  my  Uncle  Jevery," 
Jane  added  — 

"  I  have  ten  pieces  of  gold  that  are  altogether  my  own, 
I  will  give  them  to  her ;  not  because  she  was  once  Queen 
of  England,  but  because  she  is  a  sorrowful  woman,  poor, 
oppressed,  and  a  widow." 

"  Oh,  Jane  Swaffham  !  Who  taught  your  charity  to 
reach  this  height,  and  then  to  limit  and  clip  it  with  excep 
tions  ?  Why  not  say  boldly,  '  I  am  sorry  for  the  poor 
Queen,  and  she  is  welcome  to  my  gold.'  ' 

"  I  have  said  so.  Now  I  must  go.  I  will  send  the  gold 
by  a  sure  messenger  to-day." 

Matilda  did  not  urge  her  to  remain,  and  Jane  was  eager 
to  get  away.  She  had  had  some  intention — if  circum 
stances  favoured  the  confidence — of  telling  Matilda  of  her 
betrothal,  but  the  conversation  had  drifted  into  a  tone 


i58  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

which  had  made  this  communication  impossible.  And  she 
was  glad  of  her  enforced  reticence,  and  resolved  to  maintain 
it.  She  knew,  now,  that  to  make  Cluny  a  topic  of  conver 
sation  was  to  subject  him  to  Matilda's  worst  words  and  to 
all  the  disagreeable  things  she  could  say  in  those  moods, 
and  she  was  sure  that  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to 
keep  the  peace  if  Cluny  came  between  them.  It  was  diffi 
cult  enough  to  endure  her  railing  at  Cromwell,  but  if  Cluny 
became  the  target  of  her  satire,  her  annoyances  and  anx 
ieties,  Jane  knew  that  a  rupture  must  certainly  follow. 

When  she  reached  home,  her  father  was  walking  about 
the  parlour  and  talking  in  an  excited  manner  to  his  wife. 
He  showed  much  discontent,  and  as  he  walked  and  talked 
he  rattled  his  sword  ominously  to  his  words. 

"  Cromwell  wants  only  that  Parliament  should  know  its 
own  mind,  and  declare  itself  dissolved.  God  knows  it  is 
high  time,  but  Vane,  and  more  with  him,  would  sit  while 
life  lasts.  He  said  to-day  that  '  the  members  must  have 
their  time,  and  their  rights  or '  and  the  Lord  General  took 
him  up  at  the  word,  and  answered,  'the  army  can  say  "<?r" 
as  loud  as  you,  Sir  Harry,  it  may  be  louder,'  and  there  was 
a  murmur  and  a  noise  as  of  moving  steel.  Later,  I  joined 
a  party  in  the  lobby,  and  I  heard  Colonel  Streater  say 
boldly,  that  in  his  opinion,  Cromwell  designed  to  set  up  for 
himself;  and  Major  General  Harrison  said, '  You  are  far 
astray,  sir;  Cromwell's  only  aim  is  to  prepare  the  way  for 
the  kingdom  of  Christ,  and  the  reign  of  the  Saints  ;  '  and 
Streater  laughed,  and  answered  with  some  rudeness,  '  Unless 
Christ  come  suddenly,  He  will  come  too  late.'  Martha, 
my  heart  is  troubled  within  me.  Have  we  got  rid  of  one 
tyrant  calling  himself  King,  to  give  obedience  to  a  hun 
dred  tyrants  calling  themselves  Parliament  ?  It  shall  not 
be  so.  As  the  Lord  liveth,  verily,  it  shall  not !  " 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  159 

Israel  Swaffham's  temper  on  this  matter  was  but  a  re 
flex  of  the  sterner  dissatisfaction  which  Cromwell  voiced 
for  the  people.  The  Parliament  then  sitting  was  the  one 
summoned  by  King  Charles  the  First,  eleven  years  pre 
viously,  and  it  had  long  outlived  its  usefulness.  Pym  was 
dead,  Hampden  was  dead,  and  it  was  so  shrunken  from 
honour,  that  in  popular  speech  it  was  known  as  "  the  Rump  " 
of  that  great  assembly  which  had  moulded  the  Common 
wealth.  It  was  now  attacked  by  all  parties  ;  it  was  urged 
to  dissolve  itself  ;  yet  its  most  serious  occupation  seemed  to 
be  a  determination  to  maintain  and  continue  its  power. 

The  leader  of  these  despised  legislators  was  Sir  Harry 
Vane,  the  only  man  living  who  in  Parliamentary  ability  could 
claim  to  be  a  rival  of  Cromwell.  But  Vane's  great  object 
was  to  diminish  the  army,  and  to  increase  the  fleet ;  and  as 
chief  Minister  of  Naval  affairs  he  had  succeeded  in  passing 
the  Navigation  Act,  which,  by  restricting  the  importation  of 
foreign  goods  to  English  ships,  struck  a  fatal  blow  at  Dutch 
Commerce,  hitherto  controlling  the  carrying  trade.  This 
act  was  felt  to  be  a  virtual  declaration  of  war.  and  though 

'  O 

negotiations  for  peace  were  going  on,  English  and  Dutch 
sailors  were  flying  red  flags,  and  fighting  each  other  in  the 
Downs. 

Everything  relating  to  the  conduct  of  affairs  both  in 
Church  and  State  was  provisional  and  chaotic  ;  and  the 
condition  of  religion,  law,  and  all  social  matters,  filled 
Cromwell  with  pity  and  anger.  He  wanted  the  Amnesty 
Act,  to  relieve  the  conquered  royalists,  passed  at  once. 
Intensely  conservative  by  nature,  he  was  impatient  for  the 
settlement  of  the  nation,  and  of  some  stable  form  of  govern 
ment.  And  he  had  behind  him  an  army  which  was  the 
flower  of  the  people, — men  who  knew  themselves  to  be 
the  natural  leaders  of  their  countrymen, — trained  politicians, 


160  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

unconquered  soldiers  ;  the  passion,  the  courage,  and  the 
conscience  of  England  in  arms.  Their  demands  were  few, 
but  definite,  and  held  with  an  intense  tenacity.  They 
wanted,  first  of  all,  the  widest  religious  freedom  for  them 
selves  and  others  ;  secondly,  an  orderly  government  and 
the  abolition  of  all  the  abuses  for  which  Laud  and  Charles 
had  died.  And  though  devoted  to  their  great  chief,  they 
longed  to  return  to  their  homes  and  to  civil  life,  therefore 
they  echoed  strenuously  Cromwell's  cry  fora  "  speedy  settle 
ment,"  a  consummation  which  the  sitting  Parliament  way  in 
no  hurry  to  take  in  hand.  On  this  state  of  affairs  Crom 
well  looked  with  a  hot  heart.  Untiring  in  patience  when 
things  had  to  be  waited  for,  he  was  sudden  and  impatient 
when  work  ought  to  be  done,  and  his  constant  word  then 
was — "without  delay." 

There  was  a  meeting  of  the  Council  at  the  Speaker's 
house  the  night  after  Israel  SwafFham's  indignant  protest 
against  the  Parliament,  and  Cromwell,  sitting  among  those 
self-seeking  men,  was  scornfully  angry  at  their  delibera 
tions.  His  passion  for  public  and  social  justice  burned, 
and  in  a  thunderous  speech,  lit  by  flashes  of  blinding  wrath, 
he  spoke  out  of  a  full  and  determined  heart.  Then  he 
mounted  his  horse  and  rode  homeward.  It  was  late,  and 
the  city's  ways  were  dark  and  still ;  and  as  he  mused,  he 
was  uplifted  by  a  mystical  ecstasy,  flowing  from  an  intense 
realisation  of  his  personal  communion  with  God. 

Cluny  Neville  was  in  attendance,  and  as  he  silently  fol 
lowed  that  dauntless,  massive  figure,  he  thought  of  Theseus 
and  Hercules  doing  wonders,  because,  being  sons  of  Jove, 
they  must  of  necessity  relieve  the  oppressed,  and  help  the 
needy,  and  comfort  the  sorrowful  ;  and  then  he  added  to 
this  force  the  sublime  piety  of  a  Hebrew  prophet,  and  in 
his  heart  called  Cromwell  the  Maccabeus  of  the  English 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  161 

Commonwealth.  And  in  those  moments  of  inspiration, 
amid  the  shadows  of  the  starlit  night,  he  again  saw  Crom 
well  grow  vague  and  vast  and  mythical,  and  knew  that  his 

DO  J  * 

gigantic  soul  would  carry  England  on  waves  of  triumph 
until  she  could  look  over  the  great  seas  and  find  no  rival 
left  upon  them. 

Thought  is  transferable,  and  unconsciously  Cluny's 
enthusiasm  affected  the  silent,  prayerful  man  he  loved  and 
followed.  And  so  hope  came  into  Cromwell's  reveries, 
and  many  earthly  plans  and  desires  ;  and  when  he  alighted 
at  Whitehall,  he  thought  instantly  of  his  wife,  and  longed 
for  her  sympathy.  For  though  he  seldom  took  her  counsel, 
he  constantly  looked  to  her  for  that  fellow-feeling  which  is 
as  necessary  as  food.  Man  lives  not  by  bread  alone,  and 
there  is  untold  strength  for  him  in  womanly  love  which 
thinks  as  he  thinks,  feels  as  he  feels,  and  which,  when  he 
is  weary  and  discouraged,  restores  him  to  confidence  and  to 
self-appreciation. 

He  walked  rapidly  through  the  silent,  darkened  rooms, 
and  opening  the  door  of  his  own  chamber  very  softly,  saw 
his  wife  sitting  by  the  fire.  There  was  no  light  but  its 
fitful  bla/,e,  and  the  room  was  large  and  sombre  with  dark 
furniture  and  draperies,  the  only  white  spots  in  it  being  the 
linen  of  the  huge  bedstead,  and  the  lace  coverings  of  A'lrs. 
Cromwell's  head  and  bosom.  Yet  apart  from  these  objects 
there  was  light,  living  light,  in  the  woman's  calm,  uplifted 
face,  and  even  in  her  hands  which  were  lying  stilly  upon 
her  black  velvet  gown.  She  stood  up  as  her  husband 
advanced,  and  waited  until  he  drew  her  to  his  heart  and 
kissed  her  face.  "  You  arc  late,  Oliver,"  she  said  with 
quiet  assertion,  "  and  I  have  been  a  little  anxious — your 
life  is  so  precious,  and  there  are  many  that  seek  it." 

"  Why   do  you  fret  yourself  so  unwisely  ?      Of  a  surety 


162  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

you  know  that  I  have  a  work  to  do,  and  I  shall  not  see 
death  until  it  be  finished.  Yet  I  am  greatly  troubled  for 
England ;  I  tell  you  plainly,  Elizabeth,  that  we  are,  for  all 
good  purposes,  without  a  government." 

"  There  is  the  Parliament,  Oliver." 

"  I  look  for  no  good  from  it — a  noisy,  self-opiniated  old 
Parliament.  We  want  a  new  one.  Vane,  and  others, 
think  wisdom  was  born  with  them  ;  yea,  and  that  it  will  die 
with  them.  They  fritter  time  away  about  trifles,  when  an 
Act  of  Amnesty  ought  to  be  passed  without  delay.  It  is 
the  first  necessity  ;  they  must  pass  it ;  they  must  turn  to — 
or  turn  out." 

"  Therein  you  are  right,  as  you  always  are." 

"  Truly,  the  whole  country  is  like  the  prophets'  roll, 
written  within  and  without  with  mourning  and  wrong  and 
woe.  As  for  the  Royalists,  they  are  harried  to  death  ;  they 
hold  everything  on  sufferance.  The  time  for  this  strict 
ness  has  gone  by.  England  now  wants  peace,  justice  for 
all,  Amnesty,  and  above  all,  a  new  Parliament.  If  these 
things  don't  come  to  pass,  worse  things  will — I  say  this  to 
you  ;  it  is  the  plain  truth  ;  I  profess  it  is  !  " 

"Then  tell  them  what  to  do,  Oliver.  And  if  they  will 
not  obey,  make  them.  Are  they  not  as  much  at  your  dis 
posal  as  the  shoes  on  your  feet  ?  " 

"  The  time  is  not  fully  ripe ;  a  little  longer  they  must 
trample  upon  law  and  justice  and  mercy,  and  do  such  bare 
faced  things  as  will  make  men  wonder — a  little  longer  we 
must  suffer  them,  then " 

"  Then,  Oliver  ?  " 

"  I  will  thunder  at  the  door  for  inquisition,  and  it  will  be 
with  no  runaway  knock.  I  am  sorry,  and  I  could  be  sorry 
to  death,  for  the  needs-be,  but  it  will  come,  it  will  come. 
God  knows  I  wish  it  otherwise.  I  do,  indeed  !  " 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  163 

"  What  were  they  about  to-night  ?  " 

"  About  nothing  they  should  be.  Have  we  not  come  to 
a  pretty  state  when  Parliament  looks  to  the  private  doings 
of  its  members  ?  After  some  testimonies,  there  came  a 
motion  to  expel  all  profane  and  unsanctified  persons  from 
the  House,  and  I  rose  and  said, — '  I  could  wish  also,  that 
all  fools  were  expelled  ;  then  we  might  have  a  house  so 
thin  it  would  be  at  our  say-so.' ' 

"  Pray,  what  said  Sir  Harry  Vane  to  that  ?  He  is  as 
touchy  as  tinder." 

"  He  said,  '  General,  no  man  in  England  knows  better 
than  you  do,  the  usefulness  of  piety  ;  '  and  I  answered 
him  prompt,  '  Sir  Harry  Vane,  I  know  something  better 
than  the  usefulness  of  piety,  it  is  the  piety  of  usefulness. 
Take  heed,'  I  said,  '  of  being  too  sharp,  or  of  being  too 
easily  sharpened  by  others.  If  Parliament  is  to  sit  that  it 
may  count  the  number  of  glasses  a  man  drinks,  or  the  style 
of  his  coat  and  his  headgear,  England  is  in  her  dotage.  I 
would  rather  see  death  than  such  intolerable  things,  I  would 
truly.'  And  I  said  these  words  in  great  wrath,  and  I  could 
wish  I  had  been  in  still  greater  anger." 

"  Why  don't  they  do  what  you  desire  ?  Will  they  come 
to  disputing  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  look  for  it,  but  I  understand  the  men.  This  state  of 
affairs  will  grow  to  somewhat.  I  know  what  I  feel.  My 
dearest,  I  need  pity  ;  I  do,  indeed.  I  am  set  here  for  Eng 
land's  defense,  and  there  is  One  who  will  sift  me  as  wheat 
concerning  my  charge.  Elizabeth,  there  are  at  this  very 
hour  twenty-three  thousand  unheard  cases  in  Chancery.  I 
see  the  law  constantly  abused.  If  I  say  a  word  that  mercy 
may  now  be  shown,  I  am  accused  of  pandering  to  the  ma- 
lignants  for  some  end  of  my  own.  Hundreds  of  English 
men  are  in  prison  on  matters  of  conscience ; — they  ought 


1 64  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

to  be  free.  There  are  tithes  and  exactions  intolerable,  and 
this  fragment  and  figment  and  finger-end  of  an  old  Parlia- 

DO  O 

ment  busies  itself  with  its  members'  moralities ;  with  rais 
ing  money  for  a  Dutch  war,  or  with  selling  the  stonework, 
leads  and  bells  of  our  Cathedrals.  If  my  God  will  give  me 
a  word,  I  will  better  such  work  j  I  will  indeed  !  " 

"  Sir  Harry  Vane  has  already  reduced  the  army.  He 
thought  thus  to  curtail  your  power,  Oliver ;  I  saw  through 
the  man  from  the  first." 

"  My  authority  came  not  through  Sir  Harry  Vane,  nor 
can  Sir  Harry  Vane  take  it  from  me.  My  comfort  is  that 
God  called  me  to  be  captain  of  Israel's  host.  Truly,  I 
never  sought  the  place.  I  did  not.  But  while  my  head  is 
above  the  mold,  my  heart  will  burn  against  oppression.  I 
will  not  suffer  it ;  before  God  and  angels  and  men  I  will 
not  suffer  it !  'Tis  the  time  now  for  showing  mercy  and 
for  settling  the  Kingdom,  and  these  things  shall  be  done. 
I  know  the  sort  of  men  I  have  to  deal  with,  I  will  carry  jus 
tice  through  their  teeth,  even  if  they  be  a  Parliament.  And 
let  God  be  my  judge." 

"  But  what  will  you  do  ?  There  are  strong  men  that 
hate  you." 

"  I  will  do  nothing  just  yet — unless  I  get  the  commis 
sion.  Who  are  these  men  ?  Only  cedars  of  Lebanon 
that  God  has  not  yet  broken.  '  They  shall  be  able  to  do 
nothing  against  me.  His  Hands  shall  cover  me.'  That 
word  came  to  me  by  little  Jane  Swaffham.  I  have 
thanked  her  many  times  for  it." 

"  I  know  your  patience  and  your  goodness,  Oliver." 

"  Yes,  but  patience  works  to  anger.  I  shall  stand  no 
nonsense  from  any  one  much  longer.  When  Opportunity 
comes,  I  shall  make  Importunity  fit  Opportunity — I  will 
that." 


TWO  LOVE  AFFAIRS  165 

He  had  been  unbuttoning  his  doublet  as  he  spoke  these 
words,  and  he  flung  it  from  him  with  an  extraordinary  force 
and  passion  ;  then  suddenly  calming  himself  he  sat  down, 
and  said  with  a  sadness  equal  to  his  anger,  "  Let  me  have 
your  prayers,  dear  wife,  let  me  have  them.  For  come 
what  will,  we  must  work  God's  good  pleasure  and  serve 
our  generation — our  rest  we  expect  elsewhere.  I  live  in 
Meshec  (prolonging)  and  in  Kedar  (blackness),  yet  as  John 
Verity  said  to  me  last  Sabbath — '  Brother  Oliver,  you 
have  daily  bread,  and  you  shall  have  it,  despite  your 
enemies.  In  your  Father's  house  there  is  enough  and 
to  spare  of  every  good  thing ;  and  He  dispenseth  it.' 
Those  three  words  go  to  my  heart  like  heavenly  wine 
— He  dispenseth  it,  Elizabeth  ;  "  and  he  took  her  hand, 
and  she  leaned  her  face  full  of  light  and  trust  against 
his  shoulder,  and  as  he  stooped  to  it,  his  countenance 
grew  sweet  and  tender  as  a  little  child's.  For  a  few 
moments  they  sat  silent,  then  the  God-full  man  burst 
into  rapturous  thanksgiving,  because  all  his  hopes  were 
grounded  on  the  Truth  of  God,  on  the  immutability  of 
His  Counsel,  and  on  the  faithfulness  of  His  promises. 
"Promises,"  he  cried  out,  "having  this  double  guar 
antee,  that  they  have  not  only  been  spoken,  they  have 
been  sworn  to." 

An  inward,  instant  sense  of  God's  presence  came  to 
both  of  them.  They  had  a  joy  past  utterance.  Troubles 
of  all  kinds  grew  lighter  than  a  grasshopper.  They  par 
took  of  those  spiritual  favours  which  none  know,  save 
those  who  receive  them  ;  and  urged  by  a  spiritual  pressure 
within,  Cromwell  sighed  into  the  very  ear  of  God,  "  Whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee  ?  and  there  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  beside  Thee." 

For  the   Eternal   God  was  the  firmament  of  this  man's 


i66  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

life ;  whether  on  the  battle-field  or  in  the  Council  Chamber, 
amid  his  family  or  alone  in  his  closet,  God  was  the 
Majestic  Overhead  and  Background  of  all  his  thoughts, 
affections,  purposes  and  desires. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

UPON    THE    THRESHOLD 
"  Predestinated  ills  are  never  lost." 

"  The  Power  that  ministers  to  God's  decrees, 
And  executes  on  earth  what  He  foresees, 
Called  Providence, — 
Comes  with  resistless  force  ;  and  finds,  or  makes  a  way." 

IF  we  believe  that  life  is  worth  living,  our  belief  helps 
to  create  that  fact,  for  faith  is  in  matters  of  the  spirit  all 
that  courage  is  in  practical  affairs.  To  Jane  and  Cluny 
this  belief  was  not  difficult,  for  limitation  always  works  for 
happiness,  and  during  the  ensuing  year  life  kept  within  the 
bounds  of  their  mutual  probation  and  of  Cluny's  military 
duties,  was  full  of  happy  meetings  and  partings  ;  days  in 
which  Love  waited  on  Duty,  and  again,  days  in  which 
Love  was  lord  of  every  hour  ;  when  they  wandered  to 
gether  in  the  Park  like  two  happy  children,  or,  if  the 
weather  was  unfit,  sat  dreaming  in  the  stately  rooms  of 
Sandys  about  the  little  gray  house  in  Fifeshire,  which  was 
to  be  their  own  sweet  home. 

These  dreams  and  hopes  were  set  to  a  national  iife  full 
of  unexpected  events  and  rumours  of  events,  and  to  inter 
esting  bits  of  gossip  about  the  beloved  Lord  General  and 
his  family  and  friends.  The  news-letters  were  hardly 
necessary  to  the  Swaffhams ;  they  were  in  the  heart  of 
affairs,  and  life  was  so  full  of  love  and  homely  pleasures, 

167 


i68  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

that  the  days  came  and  went  to  thanksgiving — literally  so, 
for  Jane  could  not  but  notice  how  at  this  time  her  father 
and  mother  selected  for  the  household  worship  psalms, 
whose  key-note  was,  "  Bless  the  Lord,"  "  Make  a  joyful 
noise  unto  the  Lord,"  or,  "  I  will  love  thee  O  Lord  my 
strength."  And  she  could  so  well  remember  when  these 
prayers  were  implorations  for  help  and  comfort,  or  for 
victory  over  enemies.  How  different  was  now  her  father's 
tone  of  joyful  confidence  when  he  recited  with  the  family 
his  favourite  portion  from  the  eighteenth  psalm,  generally 
beginning  about  the  thirtieth  verse,  and  growing  more  and 
more  vivid  and  earnest,  until  in  a  voice  of  triumph  he 
closed  the  Book  with  a  great  emphasis,  to  the  exulting 
words,  "  The  Lord  liveth,  and  blessed  be  my  Rock,  and 
let  the  God  of  my  salvation  be  exalted." 

So  the  weeks  and  months  went  by,  and  though  they  were 
not  alike,  they  had  that  happy  similitude  which  leaves  little 
to  chronicle.  Jane's  chief  excitements  came  from  her  visits 
to  Mary  Cromwell  and  Matilda  de  Wick.  The  latter  had 
now  quite  recovered  her  beauty  and  brightness,  and  she 
had  gradually  moulded  her  new  life  to  her  satisfaction.  It 
was  not  a  life  that  Jane  thoroughly  understood,  and  indeed 
she  shrank  from  Matilda's  confidences  about  it;  and  Ma 
tilda  was  soon  aware  of  this  reluctance  and  ceased  to  make 
any  overtures  in  that  direction.  And  in  this  matter,  Mrs. 
Swaffham  was  of  her  daughter's  mind. 

"  If  Sir  Thomas  is  blind  to  what  goes  on  beneath  his 
own  roof,  Jane,"  she  said,  "  why  should  you  see  incon 
veniences  ?  There  is  a  deal  of  wisdom  in  looking  over 
and  beyond  what  is  under  your  eyes.  The  Lord  Gencn.l 
does  it,  for  Sir  Thomas  dined  at  Whitehall  last  wee!:. 
Your  father  says  one  of  his  ships  has  been  taken  by  Prince 
Rupert,  and  Cromwell  has  written  to  Cardinal  Mazarin 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  169 

about  the  matter.  But  Admiral  Blake  is  the  only  mes 
senger  Mazarin  will  heed." 

The  affection  between  Jane  and  Matilda  had,  however, 
the  strong  root  of  habit  as  well  as  of  inclination.  They 
could  not  be  happy  if  they  were  long  apart.  Jane  visited 
frequently  at  Jevery  House,  and  Matilda  quite  as  frequently 
at  Sandys.  That  they  disagreed  on  many  subjects  did  not 
interfere  with  their  mutual  regard.  It  was  an  understood 
thing  that  they  would  disagree,  and  yet  there  was  between 
them  such  a  sincere  love  as  withstood  all  differences,  and 
ignored  all  offenses.  Generally  Jane  was  forbearing  but 
occasionally  her  temper  matched  Matilda's,  and  then  they 
said  such  words,  and  in  such  fashion  said  them,  that  final 
estrangement  seemed  inevitable.  Yet  these  bursts  of  anger 
were  almost  certainly  followed  by  immediate  forgiveness  and 
renewal  of  affection. 

One  morning  in  the  spring  of  1653,  Jane  was  returning 
from  a  two  days'  visit  to  the  Cromwells.  The  air  was  so 
fresh  and  balmy  she  went  to  Jevery  House,  resolved  to  ask 
Matilda  to  drive  in  the  Park  with  her.  She  had  not  her 
key  to  the  private  door,  and  was  therefore  compelled  to 
alight  at  the  main  entrance.  Sir  Thomas  was  among  his 
crocus  beds,  at  this  time  a  living  mass  of  gold  and  purple 
beauty,  and  he  was  delighted  to  exhibit  them  to  one  so  sen 
sitive  to  their  loveliness.  Jane  told  him  she  had  been  at  the 
Cockpit,  and  he  asked  after  the  Lord  General,  adding,  "  It 
is  high  time  he  stepped  to  the  front  again."  Then  Jane 
instantly  remembered  the  picture  in  the  cedar  salon,  and 
smiled  an  understanding  answer. 

As  she  went  up-stairs  she  wondered  what  mood  she  would 
find  Matilda  in,  for  there  was  a  certain  mental  pleasure  in 
the  uncertainty  of  her  friend's  temper.  It  was  so  full  of 
unlooked-for  turns,  so  generally  contrary  to  what  was  to  be 


1 70  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

expected,  that  it  piqued  curiosity  and  gave  spice  and  interest 
to  every  meeting.  She  found  her  lying  upon  a  sofa  in  her 
chamber,  her  little  feet,  prettily  shod  in  satin,  showing  just 
below  her  gown ;  her  hands  clasped  above  her  head,  her 
long  black  hair  scattered  loosely  on  the  pillow.  She  smiled 
languidly  as  Jane  entered,  and  then  said, 

"  I  have  been  expecting  you,  Jane.  I  could  not  keep 
the  thought  of  you  out  of  my  mind,  and  by  that  token  I 
knew  you  were  coming.  But  how  bravely  you  are  gowned  ! 
Pray,  where  have  you  been  ?  Or,  where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  spending  two  days  with  the  Cromwells  ; 
and  the  morning  is  so  fair,  I  wondered  if  you  would  not 
drive  an  hour  in  the  Park.  Perhaps,  then,  you  would  come 
home  with  me  to  dinner,  and  so  make  mother  very  happy. 
Do  you  know  that  Cymlin  arrives  from  Ireland  to-day  ? 
He  would  think  the  journey  well  taken,  if  he  saw  you  at 
the  end  of  it." 

"  You  are  a  little  late  with  your  news,  Jane.  That  is 
one  of  your  faults.  Cymlin  was  here  last  night.  He 
spent  a  couple  of  hours  with  me ; "  then  she  smiled  so 
peculiarly,  Jane  could  not  help  asking  her  — 

"  What  is  there  in  your  way  of  smiling,  Matilda  ?  I  am 
sure  it  means  a  story  of  some  kind." 

"  I  shall  have  to  tell  you  the  story,  for  you  could  never 
guess  what  that  smile  was  made  of.  First,  however,  what 
did  you  see  and  hear  at  the  Cromwells  ?  'Tis  said  the 
great  man  is  in  a  strange  mood,  and  that  his  picked  friends 
are  wondering  how  he  will  cast  the  scale.  Vane  and  he 
must  come  to  l  Yes  '  and  '  No  '  soon  ;  and  when  rogues  fall 
out,  honest  folk  get  their  rights." 

"  England  will  get  her  rights  if  Cromwell  cast  the  scale. 
He  is  both  corner-stone  and  keystone  of  her  liberties.  He 
was  in  the  kindest  of  moods,  and  I  took  occasion  to  speak 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  171 

of  you  and  your  many  sorrows.  And  he  wet  my  speech 
with  the  most  pitiful  tears  ever  man  shed,  saying  such 
words  of  your  father  as  brought  me  to  weeping  also.  He 
spoke  also  very  heavenly  about  your  afflictions,  and  bade  me 
tell  you  sorrow  was  one  of  the  surest  ways  to  heaven." 

"  But  I  could  wish  a  pleasanter  way,  and  so  will  not 
take  Cromwell's  guidance." 

"  I  heard  in  a  passing  manner  that  Prince  Rupert  is  off 
the  seas  forever — that  he  is  at  the  French  Court,  where  he 
is  much  made  of." 

"Jane  Swaffham,  have  you  no  fresher  news?"  and  she 
pulled  out  of  her  bosom  many  sheets  of  paper  tied  together 
with  a  gold  thread.  "  I  had  this  yesterday,"  she  said,  "  by 
the  hand  of  Stephen,  and  I  may  as  well  tell  you  to  prepare 
to  meet  Stephen  de  Wick,  for  he  vows  he  will  not  leave 
England  again  until  he  has  speech  with  you." 

"Then  he  is  forsworn;  I  will  not  see  him." 

"  It  will  be  no  treason  now  to  speak  to  your  old  servant. 
The  Amnesty  Act  will  cover  you.  But  I  fight  not  Stephen's 
battles  ;  I  have  enough  to  do  to  keep  my  own  share  of 
your  friendship  from  fraying.  See  how  Fortune  orders 
affairs  !  The  ship  my  uncle  has  been  worrying  Cromwell 
about,  and  which  Cromwell  has  been  bullying  Mazarin 
about,  was  taken  by  Prince  Rupert ;  and  I  hope,  by  this 
time,  he  has  turned  her  last  ounce  of  cargo  and  her  last 
inch  of  plank  into  good  gold  ducats." 

"But  that  would  be  to  your  uncle's  great  loss." 

"  Cromwell  has  promised  to  see  to  that.  The  man  and 
his  army  ought  to  be  of  some  use.  If  you  can  keep  a 
secret  suspicion,  you  may  believe,  with  me,  that  my  uncle 
was  not  averse  to  letting  the  royal  family  have  this  one  of 
his  ventures.  They  need  the  money  from  it,  and  Cromwell 
will  collect  the  full  value  from  the  Frenchman.  I  like 


1 72  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

that  way  of  paying  Sir  Thomas.  The  French  have  be 
haved  abominably  to  the  poor  Queen  and  His  Majesty,  and 
their  unhappy  Court.  Let  them  pay  for  what  Rupert 
took.  They  owe  it  to  His  Majesty  ;  let  them  pay  !  Make 
them  pay  !  In  grace  of  God,  'tis  good  enough  for  them. 
As  for  Uncle  Jevery,  he  always  gets  his  own  ;  some  one, 
in  some  manner,  will  pay  him  for  the  Sea  Rover^  plank  and 
cargo.  In  the  meantime,  the  King  can  have  a  little  com 
fort.  Why  has  Cymlin  come  at  this  time  from  Ireland  ?  " 

"  He  has  leave  of  absence  from  Commander-in-chief 
Fleetwood." 

"  Oh,  Jane !  I  am  tipsy  with  laughing  when  I  think  of 
the  doleful  widow  Ireton — and  Fleetwood.  You  remember 
what  a  hot  quarrel  we  had  about  Ireton  being  buried  among 
the  Kings  of  England — they  will  kick  him  out  yet,  though 
they  be  dead — and  how  you  shamed  me  for  not  weeping 
with  the  desolated  woman  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  better  to  forget  these  things,  Matilda." 

"  And  then  she  let  the  widower  Fleetwood  console  her  in 
less  than  half  a  year  !  It  makes  me  blush  !  Yet  the  widow 
Ireton  is  an  honourable  woman  !  To  be  sure,  only  God 
understands  women.  I  don't.  I  don't  understand  myself 
- — or  you." 

"  No  woman  likes  to  be  put  down  ;  and  when  General 
Lambert  got  Ireton's  place,  Madame  Lambert  was  insolently 
proud,  and  insisted  on  taking  precedence  of  Ireton's 
widow,  though  she  was  Cromwell's  daughter." 

"  Fancy  the  saints  quarreling  about  earthly  precedence  ! 
Madame  Lambert  was  right.  A  living  dog  is  better  than  a 
dead  lion.  And  I  admire  the  devout  Bridget's  revenge;  it 
was  so  human — so  sweetly  womanly.  How  did  she  get 
round  her  father  ?  " 

"Indeed,  men   are   sweetly  human   too;  and  the  better 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  173 

men,  the  more  human.  Colonel  Fleetwood  by  taking  Lady 
Ireton's  part,  won  her  affection  ;  it  was  a  fitting  match,  and 
it  pleased  the  Lord  General ;  he  recalled  Lambert — who 
was  truly  overpowered  by  his  great  position — and  made 
Fleetwood  commander  in  Ireland,  thus  giving  his  daughter 
back  the  precedence." 

"  'Twas  a  delightful  bit  of  domestic  revenge.  I  enjoyed 
it.  London  enjoyed  it.  Puritans  and  Royalists  alike 
laughed  over  it.  It  was  such  a  thing  as  any  mortal  father 
would  have  done,  and  every  mortal  father,  for  once,  felt  kin 
to  the  Lord  General.  '  Nicest  thing  I  ever  heard  of  him,' 
said  Lord  and  Lady  Fairfax ;  for,  as  you  know,  Lord  and 
Lady  Fairfax  always  have  the  same  opinion." 

"  Why  do  you  talk  of  it  ?  The  thing  is  past  and 
over." 

"  By  no  means.  The  Lamberts  are  still  going  up  and 
down,  he  in  wrath  and  she  in  tears,  talking  about  it." 

"  Then  let  us  talk  of  other  things.  As  I  came  here 
I  met  a  large  company  of  Dutch  prisoners.  They  were 
taking  them  to  our  Fen  country,  that  they  might  drain  it." 

"  They  are  very  fit  for  that  work.  They  are  used  to 
living  in  mud  and  water.  How  came  they  ?  " 

"  They  did  not  come.  Blake  sent  them.  He  sunk 
their  ship  and  made  them  his  prisoners." 

"  Why  did  they  interfere  with  Blake  ?  It  serves  them 
right." 

u  The  Dutch  are  at  war  with  the  Commonwealth.  Does 
not  that  please  you  ?  " 

"  No.  What  right  have  the  Dutch  to  meddle  in  our  af 
fairs  ?  The  quarrel  is  between  our  King  and  the  Parlia 
ment.  It  is  our  own  quarrel,  Englishmen  against  English 
men.  That  is  all  right.  It  is  a  family  affair  ;  we  want  no  for 
eigners  taking  a  hand  in  it.  The  only  time  I  ever  saw  my 


174  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

father  angry  at  the  King  was  when  he  landed  foreigners  to 
fight  Englishmen.  We  can  settle  our  own  quarrels.  If 
Dutchmen  will  come  into  our  boat  they  will,  of  course,  get 
the  oars  over  their  fingers.  Serve  them  right.  Let  them 
go  to  the  Fens.  They  are  only  amphibious  creatures." 

"  But  you  do  not  understand  ;  they " 

"  And  I  do  not  want  to  understand ;  I  have  settled  that 
affair  to  my  satisfaction.  Now  I  must  tell  you  something 
concerning  myself.  I  am  going  to  France." 

"  France  !  "  cried  Jane  in  amazement. 

"Yes,  France.  I  have  persuaded  my  uncle  that  he 
ought  to  go  there,  and  look  after  the  Sea  Rover.  I  have  per 
suaded  my  aunt  that  it  is  not  safe  for  my  uncle  to  go  with 
out  her;  and  they  both  know  my  reason  for  going  with 
them,  although  we  do  not  name  Prince  Rupert." 

"  When  do  you  go,  Matilda  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  if  Stephen  be  ready.  And  let  me  tell  you, 
Jane,  Stephen's  readiness  depends  on  you." 

"  That  is  not  so." 

"  It  is.  I  hope  you  will  be  definite,  Jane.  You  have 
kept  poor  Stephen  dangling  after  you  since  you  were  ten 
years  old." 

"  What  about  Cymlin  and  yourself?  " 

Then  Matilda  laughed,  and  her  countenance  changed, 
and  she  said  seriously,  "  Upon  my  word  and  honour,  I  was 
never  nearer  loving  Cymlin  than  I  was  last  night,  yet  he 
was  never  less  deserving  of  it.  'Tis  a  good  story,  Jane.  I 
will  not  pretend  to  keep  it  from  you,  though  I  would  stake 
my  last  coin  on  Cymlin's  silence  about  the  matter.  He 
came  into  my  presence,  as  he  always  does,  ill  at  ease ;  and 
why,  I  know  not,  for  a  man  more  handsome  in  face  and 
figure  it  would  not  be  easy  to  find  in  England.  But  he  has 
bad  manners,  Jane,  confess  it;  he  blushes  and  stumbles  over 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  175 

things,  and  lets  his  kerchief  fall,  and  when  he  tries  to  be  a 
gallant,  makes  a  fool  of  himself." 

"  You  are  talking  of  my  brother,  Matilda,  and  you  are 
making  him  ridiculous,  a  thing  Cymlin  is  not,  and  never  was." 

"Wait  a  bit,  Jane.  I  was  kind  to  him,  and  he  told  me 
about  his  life  in  Ireland,  and  he  spoke  so  well,  and  looked  so 
proper,  that  I  could  not  help  but  show  him  how  he  pleased 
me.  Then  he  went  beyond  his  usual  manner,  and  in  leav 
ing  tried  to  give  me  a  bow  and  a  leg  in  perfect  court  fashion  ; 
and  he  made  a  silly  appearance,  and  for  the  life  of  me  I  could 
not  help  a  smile — not  a  nice  smile,  Jane  ;  indeed,  'twas 
a  very  scornful  smile,  and  he  caught  me  at  it,  and  what  do 
you  think  he  did  ?  " 

"  I  dare  say  he  told  you  plainly  that  you  were  behaving 
badly  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Jane,  he  turned  back,  he  walked  straight 
to  me  and  boxed  my  ears,  for  '  a  silly  child  that  did  not 
know  the  difference  between  a  man  and  a  coxcomb.'  I 
swear  to  you  I  was  struck  dumb,  and  he  had  taken  himself 
out  of  the  room  in  a  passion  ere  I  could  find  a  word 
to  throw  after  him.  Then  I  got  up  and  went  to  a  mirror 
and  looked  at  my  ears,  and  they  were  scarlet,  and  my 
checks  matched  them,  and  for  a  moment  I  was  in  a  tower 
ing  rage.  I  sat  down,  I  cried,  I  laughed,  I  was  amazed,  I 
was,  after  a  little  while,  ashamed,  and  finally  I  came  to 
a  reasonable  temper  and  acknowledged  I  had  been  served 
exactly  right.  For  I  had  no  business  to  put  my  wicked  lit 
tle  tongue  in  my  cheek,  because  a  brave  gentleman  could 
not  crook  his  leg  like  a  dancing-master.  Are  you  laughing, 
Jane  ?  Well,  I  must  laugh  too.  I  shall  laugh  many  a  time 
when  I  think  of  Cymlin's  two  big  hands  over  my  ears. 
Had  he  kissed  me  afterwards,  I  would  have  forgiven  him 
—I  think," 


176  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  I  cannot  help  laughing  a  little,  Matilda,  but  I  assure 
you  Cymlin  is  suffering  from  that  discipline  far  more  than 
you  are." 

u  I  am  not  suffering  at  all.  This  morning  I  admire  him. 
There  is  not  another  man  in  the  world  who  would  have  pre 
sumed  to  box  the  Lady  Matilda  de  Wick's  ears  ;  accord 
ingly  I  am  in  love  with  his  courage  and  self-respect.  I  de 
served  what  I  got,  I  deserved  it  richly,  Jane  ;  " — and  she 
rose  and  went  to  the  glass,  and  turned  her  head  right  and 
left,  and  looked  at  her  ears,  and  then  with  a  laugh  said, 
"  Poor  little  ears  !  You  had  to  suffer  for  a  saucy  tongue. 
Jane,  my  ears  burn,  my  cheeks  burn.,  I  do  believe  my  heart 
burns.  I  shall  laugh  and  cry  as  long  as  I  live,  and  remem 
ber  Cymlin  Swaff  ham." 

u  It  was  too  bad  of  Cymlin — but  very  like  him.  He  has 
boxed  my  ears  more  than  once." 

"You  are  his  sister.  That  is  different.  I  will  never 
speak  to  him  again.  He  can  go  hang  himself  if  he  likes, 
or  go  back  to  Ireland — which  seems  about  the  same  thing." 

"  Cymlin  will  not  hang  himself  for  man  or  woman. 
Cymlin  has  the  fear  of  God  before  him." 

"  I  am  glad  he  has.  Surely  he  has  no  fear  of  Matilda  de 
Wick.  There,  let  the  matter  drop.  I  wish  now,  you 
would  either  take  Stephen,  or  send  him  off  forever.  I  am 
in  a  hurry  to  be  gone,  and  Sir  Thomas  also." 

"  Sir  Thomas  seemed  full  of  content  among  his  lilies  and 
crocuses." 

"  I'll  wager  he  was  bidding  them,  one  by  one,  a  good 
bye.  Go  and  send  Stephen  with  a  '  Yes  '  or  '  No  '  to  me. 
I  am  become  indifferent  which,  since  you  are  so  much  so." 

The  little  fret  was  a  common  one  ;  Jane  let  it  pass 
without  comment,  and  it  did  not  affect  the  sympathy  and 
affection  of  their  parting.  Many  letters  were  promised  on 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  177 

both  sides,  and  Jane  was  glad  to  notice  the  eagerness  and 
hope  in  her  friend's  voice  and  manner.  Whatever  her 
words  might  assert,  it  was  evident  she  looked  forward  to  a 

O  ' 

great  joy.  And  as  long  as  she  was  with  Matilda,  Jane  let 
this  same  spirit  animate  her;  her  ride  home,  however,  was 
set  to  a  more  anxious  key.  She  was  a  little  angry  also. 
Why  should  Stephen  de  Wick  intrude  his  love  upon  her  ? 
Twice  already  she  had  plainly  told  him  that  his  suit  was 
hopeless,  and  she  did  not  feel  grateful  for  an  affection  that 
would  not  recognise  its  limits,  and  was  determined  to  force 
itself  beyond  them. 

She  entered  Sandys  with  the  spring  all  about  her ;  her 
fair  face  rosy  with  the  fresh  wind,  and  her  eyes  full  of  the 
sunshine.  Cymlin  and  Stephen  were  sitting  by  the  fireside 
talking  of  Irish  hounds  and  of  a  new  bit  for  restive  horses 
which  Cymlin  had  invented.  It  was  evident  that  Mrs. 
Swaffham  had  given  Stephen  a  warm  welcome;  the  re 
mains  of  a  most  hospitable  meal  were  on  the  table,  and  he 
had  the  look  and  manner  of  a  man  thoroughly  at  home. 
In  fact,  he  had  made  a  confidant  of  Cymlin,  or,  rather,  he 
had  talked  over  an  old  confidence  with  him.  Cymlin  ap 
proved  his  suit  for  Jane's  hand.  He  did  not  like  the  idea 
of  Cluny  as  a  member  of  his  family.  He  had  an  aversion, 
almost  a  contempt,  for  all  men  not  distinctly  and  entirely 
English,  and  he  was  sure  that  Cluny  had  won  that  place 
in  the  Lord  General's  favour  which  he  himself  was  in  sight 
of  when  Cluny  appeared.  Again,  Stephen  had  been  his 
playmate  ;  he  was  his  neighbour,  and  if  the  King  ever 
came  back,  would  be  an  important  neighbour ;  one  whose 
good  offices  might  be  of  some  importance  to  SwafFham. 
Besides  which,  though  he  habitually  snubbed  Jane,  he  loved 
her,  and  did  not  like  to  think  of  her  living  in  Scotland.  It 
was  a  pleasanter  thing  to  imagine  her  at  de  Wick;  and  it 


178  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

may  be  noticed  that  the  return  of  the  Stuarts  was  almost 
assured  by  this  constant  thought  and  predication  of  it  in 
the  staunchest  Puritan  minds.  The  fear  was  the  uncon 
scious  prophecy. 

When  Jane  entered,  Cymlin  and  Stephen  both  rose  to 
meet  her.  Cymlin  was  kind  with  the  condescension  of  a 
brother.  He  spoke  to  her  as  he  spoke  to  creatures  weaker 
than  himself,  and  kissed  her  with  the  air  of  a  king  kissing 
a  subject  he  loved  to  honour.  Then  he  made  an  excuse  to 
the  stables  and  gave  Stephen  his  opportunity.  The  young 
man  had  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  beautiful  face  and  slen 
der  form  of  the  girl  he  loved,  but  had  uttered  no  word  ex 
cept  the  exclamation  that  sprung  from  his  lips  involuntarily 
when  she  entered : 

"  Jane  !  " 

Even  when  they  were  alone,  he  first  put  the  logs  to 
gether  with  the  great  tongs  and  replaced  them  in  their 
stand  ere  he  went  to  her  and  clasped  her  hands  and 
said  with  a  passionate  eagerness,  "  Jane,  dearest  !  I  have 
come  again  to  ask  you  to  marry  me.  Say  one  good,  kind 
word.  When  you  were  not  as  high  as  my  heart,  you  did 
promise  to  be  my  wife.  I  vow  you  did  !  You  know  you 
did  !  Keep  your  promise ;  oh,  I  look  for  you  to  keep  your 
promise  !  " 

"  Stephen,  I  knew  not  then  what  marriage  meant.  You 
were  as  a  brother  to  me.  I  love  you  yet  as  I  loved  you 
then.  I  am  your  friend,  your  sister  if  you  will." 

"  I  will  not.     You  must  be  my  wife." 

"  I  cannot  be  your  wife.      I  am  already  plighted." 

"  To  Lord  Neville.     What  the  devil " 

"Sir!" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  am  no  saint,  and  what  you  say 
stirs  me  to  use  words  not  found  in  books.  As  for  Neville, 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  179 

you  shall  never  marry  him.  I  forbid  it.  I  will  hunt  him 
to  the  gates  of  death." 

u  It  is  sinful  to  say  such  things." 

"  Let  my  sins  alone.  I  am  not  in  the  humour  to  be 
sorry  for  them.  I  say  again,  you  shall  not  marry  that 
scoundrelly  Scot." 

"  He  is  not  what  you  call  him — far  from  it." 

"  I  call  things  by  their  right  names.  I  call  a  Scot,  a 
Scot ;  and  a  scoundrel,  a  scoundrel."  He  threw  her  hands 
far  from  him,  and  strode  up  and  down  the  room,  desperate 
and  full  of  wrath.  "You  shall  marry  no  man  but  myself. 
Before  earth  and  heaven  you  shall  !  " 

"If  God  wills,  I  shall  marry  Lord  Neville." 

"  I  say  no  !  "  he  shouted.  "  Jane,  when  the  King  comes 
back,  and  I  have  my  estate  and  title,  will  you  marry  me  ?  " 

"  You  are  asking  me  to  marry  your  estate  and  title.  I 
do  not  value  either  that—  "  and  she  snapped  her  thumb 
against  her  ringer,  with  no  doubtful  expression. 

"  Oh,  Jane  '  I  sna^  g°  to  total  rum  if  7OU  do  not  marry 
me." 

"Shall  I  marry  a  man  who  is  not  lord  of  himself?  I 
will  not." 

"  You  have  made  me  your  enemy.  What  follows  is 
vour  own  fault." 

"  'Tis  a  poor  love  that  turns  to  hatred  ;  and  you  can  do 
no  more  than  you  are  let  do." 

"  You  will  see.      By  my  soul,  'tis  truth  !  " 

"  There  is  God  between  me  and  you.      I  have  no  fear." 

"  I  am  beyond  reason.  What  am  I  saying  ?  All  my 
quarrels  with  you  are  kind  ones,  Jane.  Oh,  'tis  ten  thou 
sand  pities  you  will  not  love  me  !  : 

"  It  is  nowise  possible,  Stephen." 

He  flung  himself  into  a  chair,  laid  his  arms   upon  the 


i8o  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

table,  and  buried  his  face  in  them.  "  Go  away,  then,"  he 
sobbed ;  "  I  wish  to  see  your  face  no  more.  For  your 
sake,  I  will  hate  all  women  forever." 

There  was  no  use  in  prolonging  a  conversation  so  hope 
less.  She  went  away,  and  in  the  hall  met  her  brother 
Cymlin.  He  looked  at  her  angrily.  "  You  have  been  be 
having  badly  to  Stephen ;  I  see  that  much.  What  for  did 
God  make  women  ?  They  are  His  wrath,  I  think.  You 
and  your  friend  are  both  as  wicked  and  cruel  and  beautiful 
as  tigers  ;  and  you  have  no  more  heart  or  conscience  than 
cats  have." 

"  If  you  are  speaking  of  Lady  Matilda,  it  is  a  shame.  She 
told  me  to-day  she  thought  you  as  handsome  a  man  in  face 
and  figure  as  was  in  England.  She  praised  your  courage 
and  self-respect,  and  said  if  you  had  kissed  her  last  night 
she  would  have  forgiven  you." 

As  Jane  spoke,  wonder  and  delight  chased  each  other 
across  Cymlin's  face.  "  What  else  did  she  say  ?  "  he 
eagerly  asked. 

"  Indeed,  I  have  told  you  too  much." 

"  Tell  me  all,  Jane,  I  must  know." 

"  Why  should  you  care  for  her  words  ?  She  is  cruel  as  a 
tiger,  and  has  no  more  heart  or  conscience  than  a  cat." 

"  I  did  not  fully  mean  such  things  of  Matilda — nor  of 
you,  in  the  main.  You  are  sure  she  said  I  was  hand 
some  ?  " 

"  Sure." 

"  And  brave  ?  " 

"  Sure." 

"  And  self-respecting  ?  " 

"  She  said  every  word,  and  more  than  I  have  told  you." 

"  The  rest,  then  ?  " 

"No.     I  am  true  to  my  friend — in  the  main." 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  181 

"  You  are  ill-tempered.  Stephen  ought  to  be  thankful 
for  your  '  No.'  He  will  be,  some  day.  I  shall  go  and  see 
Matilda  to-morrow." 

u  She  may  leave  for  France  to-night." 

"  You  are  a  provoking  creature." 

"  Go  and  abuse  me  to  Stephen.  I  think  little  of  him. 
He  is  neither  handsome  nor  brave  nor  self-respecting,  and 
he  threatens  me !  What  do  you  think  of  a  lover  who 
threatens  his  mistress  ?  He  is  out  of  the  Court  of  Love. 
He  is  an  alien,  an  outlaw." 

"  How  you  rant  !  " 

She  did  not  wait  to  hear  more.  She  was  both  angry  and 
scornful ;  and  she  sought  out  her  mother,  and  found  her 
resting  in  her  own  room. 

"  I  get  tired  soon  in  the  day,  Jane,"  she  said  ;  "  I  think 
it  is  the  London  air,  and  the  strange  life,  and  the  constant 
fear  of  some  change.  No  one  seems  to  know  what  a  day 
will  bring  forth.  Did  you  see  Stephen  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  It  can't  be,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  You  know  it  can't  be,  mother."  She  was  hurt  at  the 
question.  It  was  a  wrong  to  Cluny  ;  and  she  said  with 
some  temper,  "  It  could  not  be  under  any  circumstances. 
The  man  is  mean  ;  he  has  just  threatened  me.  If  I  had 
not  been  a  woman  I  would  have  given  him  his  threat  back 
in  his  teeth.  I  would  rather  be  Cluny's  wife,  if  Cluny  had 
not  a  crown." 

"  Cluny  is  not  troubled  with  crowns,  or  half-crowns. 
Stephen  is  an  old  neighbour, — but  I  am  not  one  to  com 
plain.  If  you  are  pleased,  father  and  I  can  make  shift  to 
look  so.  As  for  your  brothers,  I'm  not  so  sure  of  them." 

Then  Jane  felt  a  sudden  anger  at  the  de  Wick  family. 
All  her  life,  in  some  way  or  other,  it  had  been  the  de 


182  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Wicks.  Matilda's  exactions  and  provoking  words  and 
ways  came  to  her  memory  and  brought  with  them  a  sense 
of  too  much  endured.  Stephen's  love  had  ever  been  a 
selfishly  disturbing  element.  Many  an  unpleasant  day  it 
had  caused  her,  and  at  this  moment  she  told  herself  that, 
say  what  they  would,  the  Earldom  had  an  unacknowledged 
power  over  the  imagination  of  all  the  Swaffhams  but  her 
self.  She  was  just  going  to  voice  this  opinion,  when  her 
mother's  weary  face  arrested  her  words  ;  she  went  away 
without  justifying  herself  or  her  lover,  and  when  the  act  of 
self-denial  had  been  accomplished,  she  was  glad  of  it.  In 
the  stillness  of  her  room  she  retired  with  Him  who  is  a  sure 
hiding-place,  and  there  found  that  peace  which  "  soft  upon 
the  spirit  lies,  as  tired  eyelids  upon  tired  eyes."  Her  soul 
sat  light  and  joyful  on  its  temporal  perch,  for  she  had  been 
with  God,  and  all  the  shadows  were  gone.  Men  and 
women  who  have  this  supernatural  element  in  them,  will 
understand  ;  to  those  who  are  without  it,  there  are  no 
words,  there  are  no  miracles  which  could  authenticate  this 
intimate^  spiritual  communion  to  them. 

The  next  day  Cymlin  went  to  Jevery  House  and  re 
ported,  on  his  return,  its  forlorn  emptiness.  There  were 
only  two  or  three  servants  there,  and  they  had  no  idea  when 
the  family  would  return.  To  Jane  he  admitted  that  London 
seemed  desolate,  and  Jane  was  herself  conscious  of  a  want 
or  a  loss.  Much  of  her  London  life  had  been  blended  with 
Jevery  House,  and  there  was  now  a  necessity  for  a  fresh 
ordering  of  her  time  and  duties. 

About  a  week  after  Matilda's  departure  Cluny  called 
early  one  evening  and  asked  Jane  to  go  with  him  to  Mr. 
Milton's  house  in  Petty  France.  They  sauntered  through 
St.  James'  Park,  not  then  open  to  the  public  in  general, 
though  an  exception  was  made  in  favour  of  certain  houses 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  183 

on  the  Westminster  side.  In  one  of  these,  "  a  pretty 
garden  house,"  Mr.  Milton  lived,  and  they  found  him 
walking  with  his  daughters  under  the  shady  elms.  Cluny 
delivered  to  him  some  papers,  but  did  not  accept  his  invita 
tion  to  enter  the  house  and  sing  with  him  an  anthem  which 

O 

he  had  just  composed;  for  the  evening  promised  to  be 
exceedingly  lovely,  and  Jane's  company  in  the  sweet,  shady 
walks  was  a  far  <ireater  attraction. 

O 

They  soon  lost  sight  of  all  humanity,  and  were  con 
scious  only  of  each  other's  presence,  for  indeed  a  general 
air  of  complete  solitude  pervaded  the  twilight  shades.  Jane 
was  telling  Cluny  about  her  interview  with  Stephen,  and 
they  were  walking  slowly,  hand  in  hand,  quite  absorbed  in 
their  own  affairs.  So  much  so,  that  they  never  noticed  a 
figure  which  emerged  from  behind  a  clump  of  shrubs,  and 
stood  looking  at  them.  It  was  the  Lord  General.  He  had 
been  pacing  a  little  alley  of  hazel  trees  near  by,  for  some 
time,  and  was  about  to  alter  his  course  in  order  to  take  the 
nearest  road  to  his  apartments  in  Whitehall.  His  face  was 
grave,  but  not  unhappy,  and  when  he  saw  Cluny  and  Jane 
he  stood  still  a  moment,  and  then  quietly  withdrew  into  the 
shadow  he  had  left.  A  smile  was  round  his  mouth,  and  his 
lips  moved  in  words  of  blessing,  as  he  took  another  path  to 
the  gate  he  wished.  Amid  thoughts  of  the  most  momentous 
interest,  a  little  vision  of  love  and  youth  and  beauty  had 
been  vouchsafed  him,  and  there  was  a  feeling  of  pleasure 
yet  in  his  heart  when  he  entered  the  sombre  apartment 
where  Israel  SwafFham  with  a  guard  of  soldiers,  was  in  at 
tendance.  He  saluted  his  General,  and  Cromwell  called 
him  aside  and  had  some  private  speech  with  him. 

He  then  entered  a  lofty,  royally  furnished  room,  where 
the  Council  were  awaiting  his  arrival — officers  of  the 
army,  and  members  of  Parliament,  St.  John,  Harrison, 


1 84  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Fleetwood,  Desborough  and  others  instantly  gathered 
round  Cromwell  ;  Marten,  Whitelock,  Hazelrig,  Scott, 
Sidney,  and  about  seventeen  others,  supported  Sir  Harry 
Vane,  who  was  leading  the  Parliamentary  cause. 

Cromwell  opened  the  discussion  by  reminding  the  mem 
bers  that  he  had  already  held  more  than  a  dozen  meetings, 
in  order  to  induce  Parliament  to  issue  an  Act  for  the  elec 
tion  of  a  new  Parliament,  and  then  discharge  itself.  "  Thi? 
is  what  the  people  want,  in  every  corner  of  the  nation,"  he 
said ;  "  and  they  are  laying  at  our  doors  the  non-perform 
ance  of  this  duty  and  of  their  wishes." 

Hazelrig  reminded  him  that  Parliament  had  determined 
to  dissolve  on  the  3d  of  the  ensuing  November,  after  call 
ing  for  a  new  election. 

"  It  is  now  only  the  iQth  of  April,"  answered  Cromwell, 
sharply.  "  Give  me  leave  to  tell  you  that  the  3d  of  No 
vember  will  not  do.  I  am  tired  talking  to  you.  There 
must  be  a  healing  and  a  settling,  and  that  without  delay. 
As  for  your  resolution,  the  people  will  not  have  it.  I  say, 
the  people  will  not  have  it.  A  Parliament  made  up  of  all 
the  old  members — without  reelection — and  of  such  new 
ones,  as  a  committee  of  the  old  approve  and  choose  !  Such 
a  patched,  cobbled,  made-over,  old  Parliament  will  not  sat 
isfy  the  people.  I  know  it !  I  know  it  better  than  any 
man  in  England.  It  will  not  satisfy  me.  It  will  not  sat 
isfy  the  army " 

"  Oh,  the  army  !  "   ejaculated  Sir  Harry  Vane. 

"  The  army,  Sir  Harry  Vane,  has  been  so  owned  of  God, 
so  approved  of  men,  so  witnessed  for,  that,  give  me  leave  to 
say,  no  man  will  be  well  advised  who  speaks  lightly  of  the 
army.  The  question  is  not  the  army,  the  question  is  the 
sitting  Parliament,  which,  without  either  moral  or  legal  right, 
wants  to  make  itself  perpetual." 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  185 

"This  Parliament,  General  Cromwell,  has  been  the  nurs 
ing  mother  of  the  Commonwealth,"  said  Sir  Harry  Marten. 

"•  If  that  be  so,  yet  it  is  full  time  that  the  Commonwealth 
be  weaned.  Milk  for  babes  truly,  but  England  wants 
no  more  nursing;  she  wants  strong  meat,  good  gov 
ernment,  just  laws  and  the  settlement  of  the  Gospel 
Ministry.  There  is  nothing  but  jarrings  and  animosities, 
and  we  are  like  to  destroy  ourselves  when  our  enemies 
could  not  do  it." 

"  The  army  is  full  of  factions  and  designs,  and  'tis  well 
the  Lord  General  is  aware  of  them,"  said  Hazelrig.  "  Their 
insolency  to  members  of  Parliament  is  beyond  reason." 

"  Sir,  I  cannot  be  of  your  judgment,"  answered  Crom 
well  ;  "  but  I  do  admit  that  the  army  begins  to  have  a 
strange  distaste  against  certain  members  of  Parliament, 
and  I  wish  there  was  not  too  much  cause  for  it." 

"  Cause  !   What  cause  ?  "  asked  Whitelock. 

"  Their  self-seeking,  their  delays  in  business,  their  re 
solve  to  keep  all  power  perpetually  in  their  own  hands  ; 
their  meddling  in  private  matters,  their  injustice  when  they 
do  so  meddle,  and  the  scandalous  lives  of  some  of  the  chief 
of  them.  These  things  do  give  grounds  for  good  people — 
whether  in  the  army  or  not  in  the  army — to  open  their 
mouths  against  them." 

"  There  is  the  Law  to  punish  all  evil-doers,"  said  Vane. 
"  While  the  Law  lasts  the  army  need  not  make  inquisi 
tions." 

"  This  Parliament  has  been,  and  is,  a  law  unto  themselves. 
They  are  not  within  the  bounds  of  the  law — there  being  no 
authority  so  full  and  so  high  as  to  keep  them  in  better  order," 
answered  Cromwell  with  some  anger.  Then  the  discussion 
assumed  a  very  acrimonious  character.  Undoubtedly  Vane 
was  sincerely  afraid  for  the  liberties  of  England,  with 


1 86  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Cromwell  and  his  victorious  army  at  the  very  doors  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  He  was  also  intensely  interested  in 
the  creation  of  a  British  Navy,  which  should  not  only  bal 
ance  the  glory  and  power  of  the  army,  but  also  make  Eng 
land  lord  of  the  seas,  and  of  their  commerce.  Besides,  his 
genius  had  just  perfected  a  plan  for  raising  ;£i 20,000  a 
month  to  continue  the  war  with  Holland ;  and  a  project 
setting  quite  as  near  to  his  heart  was  publicly  to  sell  all  the 
royal  palaces,  and  so  remove  from  the  sight  of  any  am 
bitious  man  a  palpable  temptation  to  seize  the  crown.  To 
surrender  all  he  had  done  in  these  directions,  to  leave  his 
cherished  projects  for  others  to  carry  out,  or  to  bring  to 
naught,  to  forego  all  the  glory  and  profit  Blake  was  even 
then  winning  for  the  Parliament,  was  not  only  hard  for  him 
self,  but  he  feared  it  would  be  disastrous  to  England  and  to 
her  liberties. 

He  spoke  of  these  things,  and  especially  of  the  great 
naval  victories  of  Blake  over  the  Dutch,  with  eloquence. 
Cromwell  admitted  all.  He  was  far  too  great  to  wish 
Blake's  honour  less,  for  Blake's  honour  was  England's 
honour,  and  England's  honour  was  Cromwell's  master  pas 
sion.  "  Blake  is  a  good  man,  and  a  great  commander,"  he 
said  heartily  ;  "  I  have  seen  him  on  the  battle-field,  again 
and  again  ;  he  took  his  men  there  through  fire  to  victory;  I 
do  think  he  will  now  take  them  through  water  the  same 
sure  road." 

When  it  drew  towards  midnight  the  long,  bitter  argument 
was  at  its  height ;  no  decision  had  been  reached,  no  course 
of  conduct  decided  on  ;  and  it  was  evident  to  Cromwell 
that  passion  and  self-interest  were  gaining  the  mastery.  He 
stood  up,  and  pointing  to  the  smoky,  flickering  lights  of 
the  nearly  burned  out  candles,  said, 

"  The  plain   truth   is,  we  must  have  a  new  Parliament, 


UPON  THE  THRESHOLD  187 

though  we  do  carry  it  by  force  through  the  teeth  of  the 
greatest  in  the  land.  I  say  we  must  have  it.  I  wish  that 
we  had  such  due  forwardness  as  to  set  about  it  to-mor 
row." 

"The  3d  of  November,"  cried  Whitelock. 

u  Such  a  far-off  promise  is  but  words  for  children.  I 
will  better  it.  I  will  say  to-morrow." 

"  I  am  with  Mr.  Whitelock,"  said  one  of  the  members ; 
"  at  least  with  present  showing." 

"  And  I  am  of  the  same  mind,"  added  Hazelrig. 

u  Hazelrig,  you  are  ever  egging  people  of  two  minds  to 
be  of  the  worser." 

"  My  Lord  General,  you  put  us  all  down.  It  were  well, 
my  lord,  if  you  could  believe  there  are  some  others  of  ac 
count  beside  yourself." 

Cromwell  looked  keenly  at  the  speaker  but  did  not  an 
swer  him. 

Turning  to  Sir  Harry  Vane  he  said,  "  It  is  now  near  to 
midnight,  and  we  have  done  no  good,  and  I  think  we  shall 
do  none.  Let  us  go  to  rest.  To-morrow,  we  will  talk 
the  matter  down  to  the  bottom,  and  do  what  God  wills." 

"  Or  what  the  Lord  General  wills,"  said  Harry  Marten 
with  a  light  laugh,  rising  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  want  not  my  own  will,"  answered  Cromwell  with  a 
sudden  great  emotion.  "I  have  sought  the  Lord's  will, 
night  and  day,  on  this  question.  I  have  indeed!  But 
I  do  think  we  have  fadged  long  enough  with  so  great  a 
subject,  and  the  people  want  a  settlement  of  it — they  will 
have  a  settlement  of  it— and  I  tell  you  the  plain  truth,  to 
morrow  there  must  be  some  decision.  It  cannot  longer  be 
delayed.  There  are  those  who  will  not  suffer  it.  Truly,  I 
believe  this  is  the  greatest  occasion  that  has  come  to  us. 
As  the  business  stands — I  like  it  not,  and  somewhat  must  be 


1 88  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

done  to  mend  it.  I  must  say  this  tc  you — impute  it  to 
what  you  please." 

This  speech  beginning  with  a  pious  submission  to  God's 
will  and  ending  with  a  dauntless  assertion  of  his  own  de 
termination,  had  a  marked  effect.  The  Parliamentary 
members  agreed  to  let  the  bill  for  perpetuating  themselves 
lie  over  until  after  another  conference  to  be  held  the  fol 
lowing  day,  and  with  this  understanding,  the  members  of 
the  Council  separated.  Cromwell  took  the  promise  in  good 
faith ;  and  he  said  to  Israel  Swaffham  as  they  went  towards 
Whitehall,  "  I  have  at  last  brought  Vane  to  terms.  I  do 
think  we  may  draw  up  the  Act  for  a  new  Parliament." 

"  Then  I  know  not  Vane,"  answered  Israel.  "  He  has 
more  shifts  than  you  dream  of,  and  the  other  members 
cluster  round  him  like  twigs  in  a  broom." 

"  Everything  must  bide  its  time ;  I  mean  His  time. 
Truly,  I  hoped  for  a  settlement  to-night ;  it  seems  we  must 
wait  for  to-morrow." 

Cromwell  spoke  wearily,  and  after  a  moment's  pause 
added,  "  'Tis  striking  twelve.  Hark  to  the  clocks,  how 
strangely  solemn  they  sound !  Well,  then,  to-day  has 
come,  but  we  have  not  got  rid  of  the  inheritance  of  yester 
day  ;  and  what  to-day  will  bring  forth,  God  only  knows. 
We  are  in  the  dark,  but  He  dwelleth  in  light  eternal." 


CHAPTER  IX 

CROMWELL    INTERFERES 

"  His  port  was  fierce, 
Erect  his  countenance  ;  manly  majesty 
Sate  in  his  front  and  darted  from  his  eyes, 
Commanding  all  he  viewed." 

DAYLIGHT  came  with  that  soft  radiance  of  sunshine  over 
fresh  green  things  which  makes  spring  so  delightful. 
Israel,  who  had  slept  his  usual  six  hours,  was  in  the  garden 
to  enjoy  it,  and  his  heart  was  full  of  praise.  He  watched 
the  little  brown  song  sparrows  building  their  nests,  and 
twittering  secrets  among  the  hawthorns.  He  saw  the 
white  lilies  of  the  valley  lifting  their  moonlight  bells  above 
the  black  earth,  and  he  took  into  his  heart  the  sweet  sermon 
they  preached  to  him.  Then  suddenly,  and  quite  una 
wares,  a  waft  of  enthralling  perfume  led  him  to  stoop  to 
where  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  oak  tree  a  cluster  of  violets 
was  flinging  incense  into  the  air.  He  smiled  at  his  big 
hands  among  them,  he  was  going  to  gather  a  few  for  Jane, 
and  then  he  could  not  break  their  fragile  stems.  "  Praise 
the  Lord  where  He  set  you  growing,"  he  said  softly ;  "  my 
hands  are  not  worthy  to  touch  such  heavenly  things,  they 
have  been  washed  in  blood  too  often."  And  his  heart  was 
silent,  and  could  find  no  prayer  to  utter,  but  the  conscience- 
stricken  cry  of  the  man  of  war  centuries  before  him, 
"  Cast  me  not  away  from  Thy  presence,  and  take  not  Thy 
holy  spirit  from  me." 

Softened  by  such  exquisite  matins,  he  went  in  to  break- 

189 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 

fast.  He  was  seldom  inclined  to  talk  on  public  affairs,  and 
this  morning  he  said  not  a  word  about  the  Council  of  the 
previous  night,  nor  of  the  self-humiliation  which  he  felt  cer 
tain  would  be  demanded  of  the  Parliament  that  day.  He  eat 
his  portion  cheerfully,  listening  to  Jane,  who  was  more 
talkative  and  light-hearted  than  usual.  She  told  her  father 
she  was  going  with  Alice  Heneage  and  a  number  of  young 
people  to  Hampton  Court.  They  were  to  picnic  in  the 
park  and  come  home  in  the  gloaming  by  the  river ;  and  as 
she  dwelt  on  what  was  to  be  done  and  seen  that  happy  day, 
Israel  looked  at  her  with  a  tender  scrutiny.  He  said  to 
himself,  "  She  is  more  beautiful  than  she  used  to  be ;  "  and 
he  watched  with  pleasure  her  soul-lit  eyes  and  speaking 
face,  not  oblivious,  either,  of  the  neatness  of  her  shining 
hair  and  the  exquisite  purity  of  her  light  gown  of  India 
calico,  with  its  crimped  rufflings  and  spotless  stomacher  of 
embroidery.  "  She  might  have  worn  the  violets  on  her 
breast,"  he  thought ;  and  then  he  rose  hastily  and  called  in 
the  household,  and  read  a  psalm,  and  made  a  short,  fervid 
prayer  with  them. 

And  this  morning  he  looked  at  the  men  and  maids  after 
wards,  and  was  not  pleased  at  what  he  saw.  "  Tabitha," 
he  said  sternly,  "  you  come  to  worship  with  too  little  care. 
Both  you  and  the  other  wenches  may  well  wash  your  faces, 
and  put  on  clean  brats  when  you  are  going  to  sit  down  and 
listen  to  the  Word  of  the  Lord  ;  "  then  observing  a  grin  on 
one  of  the  men's  faces,  he  turned  on  them  with  still  more 
anger,  and  rated  them  for  their  want  of  respect  to  God  and 
man  for  their  uncombed  hair  and  soiled  garments  and  un- 

O 

blacked  shoes,  and  so  sent  all  of  them  away  with  shame  in 
their  red  faces  and  not  a  little  wrath  in  their  hearts.  And 
he  had  no  idea  that  Jane's  delicious  freshness  and  purity 
had  really  been  the  text  prompting  his  household  homily. 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  191 

Soon  after  General  Swaffham's  departure  for  Whitehall, 
Jane's  friends  called  for  her,  and  they  went  away  together 
full  of  youth's  enthusiasm  and  anticipation.  They  took 
the  road  to  the  river,  and  to  the  sound  of  music  and  the 
falling  and  dipping  of  the  oars  they  reached  Richmond 
and  soon  spread  the  contents  of  their  hampers  upon  the 
grass  under  some  great  oaks  in  the  secluded  park.  Jane 
was  disappointed  at  Cluny's  absence ;  he  had  certainly  been 
expected,  and  no  word  explaining  his  failure  to  keep  his 
engagement  had  been  received.  But  the  general  tone  of 
the  company  was  so  full  of  innocent  gayety,  that  she  could 
not,  and  did  not,  wish  to  resist  it. 

After  a  happy,  leisurely  meal,  they  spent  the  rest  of 
their  holiday  in  wandering  through  the  palace,  until  its 
melancholy,  monastic  grandeur  subdued  them  almost  to 
silence.  Captain  Desborough,  a  young  officer  who  waited 
on  Alice  Heneage,  was  familiar  with  the  building,  and  as 
he  led  them  through  the  rooms  he  told  them  stories,  good 
and  ill,  connected  with  the  various  apartments.  Finally 
they  came  to  one  on  the  ground  floor,  that  had  been  the 
private  parlour  of  King  Charles — a  gloomy  room  furnished 
with  a  sombre  magnificence — and  here  the  young  man 
drew  the  company  closer  to  him,  and  said  — 

"  I  can  tell  you  something  true  and  strange  about  this 
room.  There  were  two  prophecies  made  in  it,  and  one  of 
them  has  come  to  pass.  King  Charles  stood  at  this  window 
one  day,  just  where  we  are  now  standing,  and  his  three 
eldest  children  were  with  him.  And  a  woman,  swart  as  an 
Indian  savage,  with  eyes  full  of  a  strange,  glazing  light, 
came  suddenly  before  them.  And  she  said  to  the  King, 
'  Let  me  read  the  future  of  your  children.  It  may  comfort 
you  when  you  will  need  comfort.'  But  the  King,  being 
in  one  of  his  melancholy  tempers,  answered  her  haughtily, 


i92  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

1  No  mortal  man  or  woman  can  foresee  the  future ; '  and 
she  looked  scornfully  at  him,  and  putting  a  small  steel 
mirror  before  his  face  said,  '  Look  !  '  and  the  King  cast 
down  his  eyes  and  saw  his  own  head  lying  on  a  bloody 
sheet ;  and  he  shuddered  and  reeled  as  if  he  would  have 
fallen.  Then  a  look  of  pity  came  into  the  woman's  face, 
and  she  put  aside  the  mirror,  and  said  in  a  strange,  far-off 
voice — as  if  she  was  already  a  long  way  distant — 4  When 
a  dog  dies  in  this  room,  your  son  will  come  to  the  throne 
again.'  And  the  King  called  loudly  for  his  attendant,  but 
when  the  officer  came,  the  woman  had  disappeared,  nor 
could  any  trace  or  tidings  of  her  be  found  or  heard  tell 
of." 

And  every  one  was  strangely  silent ;  they  walked  away 
separately  and  examined  the  fine  tapestry  hangings,  but 
they  said  not  a  word  to  each  other  about  the  uncanny 
incident.  It  seemed  only  a  fit  sequence  that  their  next 
visit  should  be  through  the  low,  narrow  portals  to  the 
gloomy  subterranean  apartments,  which  had  been  the  guard 
rooms,  and  which  were  still  decorated  with  dusty  battle 
flags  and  old  arms  and  armour.  A  singular  sensation  of 
having  been  in  these  vault-like  rooms  before,  a  sense  of 
far-backness,  of  existence  stretching  behind  everlastingly, 
of  sorrows  great  and  unavailing,  permeated  the  atmosphere. 
Jane  felt  that  here,  if  anywhere,  men  of  war  might  under 
stand  the  barrenness  of  their  lives,  and  anticipate  the  small, 
and  gloomy  harvest  of  their  tremendous  pilgrimage. 

It  was  like  passing  from  death  unto  life  to  come  out 
of  these  caverns  of  the  sword  into  the  light  and  glory 
of  the  westering  sun,  to  feel  its  warmth,  and  see  its  brave 
colours,  and  hear  the  cuckoo,  like  a  wandering  voice, 
among  the  trees.  Jane  was  the  first  to  speak.  "  How 
beautiful  is  life  and  light !  "  she  cried.  "  Let  us  get  far 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  193 

away  from  this  woeful  palace.  I  felt  such  sorrowful 
Presence  in  every  room  ;  I  thought  I  heard  sighs  following 
me,  and  soft  steps.  Who  would  live  in  such  a  home  ?  To 
do  so,  it  is  to  say  to  Misfortune,  '  Come  and  live  with  me.'  ' 

The  spirits  ot  the  little  party,  so  gay  in  the  morning, 
had  sunk  to  the  level  of  their  surroundings :  the  damp  river 
with  its  twinkling  lights,  the  gray  gloaming,  the  laboured 
dip  of  the  traveling  oars.  They  were  near  the  city  when 
Mary  Former  said  a  few  words  about  the  evil-omened 
parlour  and  the  two  prophecies  ;  then  she  wondered,  "  If  it 
was  really  in  the  power  of  any  one  to  reveal  the  future." 
And  Philip  Calamy,  a  very  devout  young  man,  who  was  in 
attendance  upon  Jane,  answered, 

"  The  Book  of  the  Future,  in  whatever  language  it  may 
be  written,  is  a  perilous  one  to  read.  We  should  go  mad 
with  too  much  learning  there." 

"  Yet,"  said  Jane,  "  it  is  most  sure  that  certain  signs 
precede  certain  events  ;  and  I  see  not  why  the  good  man, 
being  related  to  heavenly  beings — a  little  lower  than  the 
angels — may  not  foresee  and  foretell ;  and  by  the  same 
token,  the  evil  being,  related  to  evil  angels,  might  have  a 
like  intelligence." 

O 

The  discussion  was  not  continued,  for  they  were  at  the 
river  stairs,  and  as  they  passed  through  the  city  they  were 
instantly  aware  of  great  excitement.  The  rabble  were 
gathered  round  the  men  of  news,  and  were  listening  with 
open  mouths  ;  the  tradesmen  were  talking  in  groups  at 
their  shop  doors  ;  they  heard  the  name  of  Cromwell  re 
peatedly,  sometimes  in  pride,  sometimes  in  anger;  and 
small  bodies  of  the  army  were  very  much  in  evidence.  It 
was  impossible  not  to  feel  that  something  of  great  moment 
had  happened,  or  was  going  to  happen  ;  and  when  Jane 
entered  the  hall  at  Sandys  and  saw  Doctor  Verity's  hat  and 


i94  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

cloak  there,  she  expected  that  he  had  come  with  informa 
tion.  The  next  moment  Mrs.  SwafTham  came  hurriedly 
forward,  and  when  she  saw  Jane,  she  raised  her  eyes  and 
threw  up  her  hands  with  the  palms  outward,  to  express  her 
huge  astonishment  and  dismay. 

"  Mother,"  cried  Jane,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  What 
has  happened  ?  "  and  Mrs.  Swaffham  answered  — 

"  The  strangest  thing  that  ever  happened  in  England," 

Even  while  she  spoke  they  heard  General  Swaffham 
coming  up  the  steps,  the  clatter  of  his  arms  emphasising 
his  perturbed  feelings.  He  was  very  little  inclined  to 
parade  his  military  importance,  so  that  the  rattle  of  swords 
and  spurs  meant  something  more  than  usual  to  those  who 
understood  him.  He  had  scarcely  entered  the  door  ere 
Doctor  Verity  came  into  the  hall  crying  — 

"  Is  it  true,  Israel  ?     Is  it  true  ?  " 

"  Quite  true." 

"  And  well  done  ?  " 

"  Well  done.     I  am  sure  of  it." 

Men  and  women  went  into  the  parlour  together,  and  a 
servant  began  to  remove  the  General's  cavalry  boots  and 
spurs.  "  I  told  you,  Doctor,  this  morning,  that  a  settle 
ment  of  some  kind  must  come  to-day.  When  I  reached 
Whitehall  I  found  the  Lord  General  waiting  for  Sir  Harry 
Vane  and  the  members  who  had  promised  to  come  and 
continue  the  conference  relating  to  the  bill  early  in  the 
day.  The  General  was  occupying  himself  with  a  book,  but 
as  the  hours  went  by  he  grew  restless  and  laid  it  down. 
Then  he  turned  to  me  and  said,  c  Truly  these  men  are  long 
in  coming  ;  are  you  ready,  General  ? '  apd  before  I  could 
answer  he  asked  again  '  ready  and  willing  ?  '  I  told  him  a 
word  would  move  my  troop  as  one  man,  if  that  word  came 
from  himself;  and  he  waited  silently  a  little  longer.  Then 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  195 

Lord  Cluny  Neville  came  in  very  hastily,  and  said  a  few 
words,  I  know  not  what  they  were  ;  and  he  had  scarce  gone 
when  Colonel  Ingoldsby  entered,  and  there  was  no  secrecy 
then  — 

"  '  My  lord  ! '  he  cried,  '  Parliament  is  sitting  at  this 
moment ;  and  Sir  Harry  Vane,  Sidney,  and  Henry  Marten 
are  urging  the  immediate  passage  of  the  bill  so  hateful  to 
the  whole  nation.' 

"  Then  Cromwell  roused  himself  like  an  angry  lion. 
His  passion  at  this  perfidious  conduct  leaped  into  flame  ;  he 
shouted  to  Lambert  and  his  own  troop  of  Ironsides.  He 
gave  me  the  signal  I  understood,  and  we  went  quickly  to 
the  Parliament  House.  In  the  lobby  St.  John  was  stand 
ing,  and  he  said  to  Cromwell,  '  Are  you  come  down  to  the 
House,  my  lord,  this  morning  ?  It  was  thought  you  were 
safe  at  the  Cockpit  ? '  and  Cromwell  answered,  '  I  have 
somewhat  to  do  at  the  House.  I  am  grieved  to  my  soul  to 
do  it.  I  have  sought  the  Lord  with  tears  to  lay  the  work 
on  some  other  man.  I  would  to  God  I  could  innocently 
escape  it — but  there  is  a  necessity  !  '  and  he  spoke  with 
force  and  anger,  and  so  went  into  the  House." 

"  But  what  then  ?  "  asked  Doctor  Verity,  his  face  burn 
ing  with  the  eager  soul  behind  it. 

"  I  stood  at  the  door  watching  him,  my  men  being  in  the 
lobby.  He  went  to  his  usual  seat,  but  in  a  very  great  and 
majestic  manner,  and  for  a  little  while  he  listened  to  the  de 
bate.  Then  he  beckoned  Major  General  Harrison  and 
told  him  he  judged  '  it  was  high  time  to  dissolve  this  Par 
liament.'  And  Harrison  told  me  this  afternoon,  that  he  ad 
vised  Cromwell  to  consider  what  he  would  do,  for  it  was  a 
work  great  and  dangerous  ;  and  who,  he  asked,'  is  sufficient 
for  it  ?  '  And  Cromwell  answered,  l  The  Servant  of  the 
Lord,  he  is  sufficient ; '  yet  he  sat  down  again,  looking  at 


196  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

me  as  he  did  so,  and  I  looked  back  straight  into  his  eyes 
that  I  and  mine  could  be  depended  on. 

"  In  a  few  minutes  the  question  for  passing  the  bill  was 
put,  and  the  man  could  be  restrained  no  longer.  He  stood 
up,  took  off  his  hat,  and  looked  round  the  House,  and  it 
quailed  under  his  eyes  ;  every  man  in  it  shifted  on  his  seat 
and  was  uneasy.  He  began  to  speak,  and  it  was  with  a 
tongue  of  flame.  He  reproached  them  for  their  self-seek 
ing  and  their  hypocrisy  and  oppression  ;  and  as  he  went  on, 
there  was  the  roar  of  a  lion  in  his  voice,  and  the  members, 
being  condemned  of  their  own  consciences,  cowered  before 
him." 

"  Did  no  one  open  their  mouth  against  him  ?  " 

u  No  one  but  Sir  Peter  Wentworth.  He  said,  '  My 
Lord  General,  this  Parliament  has  done  great  things  for 
England ;  '  and  Cromwell  answered,  '  The  spoke  in  the 
wheel  that  creaks  most  does  not  bear  the  burden  in  the 
cart ! '  Then  Sir  Peter  told  Cromwell  his  abuse  of  the  Par 
liament  was  the  more  horrid  because  it  came  from  the  serv 
ant  of  the  Parliament,  the  man  they  had  trusted  and 
obliged." 

At  these  words  Dr.  Verity  laughed  loudly — "  Cromwell, 
the  servant  of  such  a  Parliament  !  "  he  cried.  "  Not  he  ; 
what  then,  Israel  ?  " 

"  He  told  Wentworth  to  be  quiet.  He  said  he  had 
heard  enough  of  such  talk,  and  putting  on  his  hat,  he  took 
the  floor  of  the  House.  I  watched  him  as  he  did  so.  He 
breathed  inward,  like  one  who  has  a  business  of  life  and 
death  in  hand.  I  could  see  on  his  face  that  he  was  going 
to  do  the  deed  that  had  been  the  secret  of  his  breast  for 
many  days  ;  and  his  walk  was  that  quick  stride  with  which 
he  ever  went  to  meet  an  enemy.  He  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  House,  and  began  to  accuse  the  members  personally. 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  197 

His  words  were  swords.  He  flung  them  at  the  men  as  if 
they  were  javelins  ;  shot  them  in  their  faces  as  if  from  a 
pistol ;  and  while  rivers  run  to  the  sea,  I  can  never  think 
of  Oliver  Cromwell  as  I  saw  him  this  day  but  as  one  of 
the  Immortals.  He  did  not  look  as  you  and  I  look.  He 
filled  the  House,  though  a  less  man  in  bulk  and  stature 
than  either  of  us.  He  told  the  members  to  empty  them 
selves  of  Self,  and  then  they  would  find  room  for  Christ, 
and  for  England.  He  told  them  the  Lord  had  done  with 
them.  He  said  they  were  no  Parliament,  and  that  he  had 
been  sent  to  put  an  end  to  their  sitting  and  their  prating. 

"  And  at  these  words,  Cluny  Neville  spoke  to  the  Ser 
jeant,  and  he  opened  the  doors,  and  some  musketeers  en 
tered  the  House.  Then  Sir  Harry  Vane  cried  out,  '  This 
is  not  honest ; '  and  Cromwell  reminded  him  of  his  own 
broken  promise.  And  so,  to  one  and  all,  he  brought  Judg 
ment  Day  ;  for  their  private  lives  were  well  known  to  him, 
and  he  could  glance  at  Tom  Challoner  and  say,  '  Some  of 
you  are  drunkards  ;  '  and  at  Henry  Marten,  and  give  the 
text  about  lewd  livers ;  and  at  the  bribe-takers  he  had  only 
to  point  his  finger,  and  say  in  a  voice  of  thunder  '  Depart^ 
and  they  began  to  go  out,  at  first  slowly,  and  then  in  a 
hurry,  treading  on  the  heels  of  each  other." 

"  What  of  Lenthall?      He  has  a  stubborn  will." 

"  He  sat  still  in  the  Speaker's  chair,  until  Cromwell 
ordered  him  to  come  down.  For  a  moment  he  hesitated, 
but  General  Harrison  said,  'I  will  lend  you  my  hand,  sir; ' 
and  so  he  also  went  out." 

"  But  was  there  no  attempt  to  stay  such  dismissals  ?  I 
am  amazed,  dumbfounded  !  "  said  Doctor  Verity. 

"  Alderman  Allen,  the  Treasurer  of  the  Army,  as  he 
went  out  said  something  to  Cromwell  which  angered  him 
very  much ;  and  he  then  and  there  charged  Allen  with 


io3  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

a  shortage  of  one  hundred  thousand  pounds,  and  committed 
him  to  the  care  of  a  musketeer  for  examination.  And  as  Sir 
Harry  Vane  passed  him,  he  told  him  reproachfully  that  his 
own  treacherous  conduct  had  brought  affairs  to  their  present 
necessity  ;  for,  he  added,  'if  Sir  Harry  Vane  had  been  at  the 
Cockpit  according  to  his  words,  Oliver  Cromwell  had  not 
been  in  the  Parliament  House.'  But  I  tell  you,  there  was 
no  gainsaying  the  Cromwell  of  this  hour.  He  was  more 
than  mortal  man ;  and  Vane  and  the  others  knew,  if  they 
had  not  known  before,  why  he  was  never  defeated  in 
battle." 

"  After  the  Speaker  had  left,  what  then  ?  " 

"  His  eye  fell  upon  the  Mace,  and  he  said  scornfully  to 
some  of  the  Ironsides,  '  Take  that  bauble  away  !  '  Then 
he  ordered  the  musketeers  to  clear  the  House,  he  himself 
walking  up  to  its  Clerk  and  taking  from  under  his  arm  the 
bill  which  had  caused  the  trouble,  and  which  was  ready 
to  pass.  He  ordered  the  man  to  go  home,  and  he  slipped 
away  without  a  question.  Cromwell  was  the  last  soul 
to  leave  the  Chamber,  and  as  he  went  out  of  it  he  locked 
the  door  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket.  He  then  walked 
quietly  back  to  his  rooms  in  the  Cockpit,  and  I  dare  say  he 
was  more  troubled  to  meet  Mistress  Cromwell  than  he  was 
to  meet  Sir  Harry  Vane  and  his  company." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Jane.  "  Mistress  Cromwell  is  in  all  her 
husband's  counsels.  He  would  go  to  her  for  comfort,  for 
whatever  he  may  have  said  and  done.  I  know  he  is  this 
hour  sorrowful  and  disturbed,  and  that  he  will  neither  eat 
nor  drink  till  he  has  justified  himself  in  the  sight  of  God." 

"  He  will  need  God  on  his  right  hand  and  on  his  left,"  said 
Doctor  Verity.  "  More  than  we  can  tell  will  come  of  this 
— implacable  hostility,  rancorous  jealousy,  everlasting  envy 
and  spite.  The  members " 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  199 

"The  members,"  interrupted  General  Swaffham,  "have 
tied  themselves,  hands  and  feet,  with  cords  of  their  own 
spinning,  and  Oliver  Cromwell  holds  the  ends  of  them. 
They  will  not  dare  to  open  their  mouths.  Sir  Harry  Vane 
said  something  about  the  business  being  'unconstitutional,' 
and  Cromwell  answered  him  roughly  enough,  after  this 
fashion  :  'Unconstitutional  ?  A  very  accommodating  word, 
Sir  Harry  Vane.  Give  me  leave  to  say  you  have  played 
fast  and  loose  with  it  long  enough.  I  will  not  have  it  any 
longer  !  England  will  not  have  it  !  You  are  no  friend  of 
England.  I  do  say,  sir,  you  are  no  friend  of  England!' 
And  his  passion  gathered  and  blazed  till  he  spurned  the 
floor  with  his  feet,  just  as  I  have  seen  my  big  red  bull 
at  Swaffham  paw  the  ground  on  which  he  stood." 

"This  is  all  very  fine  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Swaffham,  al 
most  weeping  in  her  anger;  "but  you  need  not  praise  this 
man  to  me.  He  has  slain  the  King  of  England,  and  turned 
out  the  English  Parliament,  and  pray  what  next  ?  He  will 
make  himself  King,  and  Elizabeth  Cromwell  Queen. 
Shall  we  indeed  bow  clown  to  them  ?  Not  I,  for  one." 

"  He  wants  no  such  homage,  Martha,"  said  the  Doctor, 
"and  if  I  judge  Madame  Cromwell  rightly,  she  is  quite  as 
far  from  any  such  desire." 

"You  know  nothing  of  the  Cromwell  women,  Doctor — 
I  know.  Yes,  I  know  them  !  " 

"  Dear  mother " 

"  Jane,  there  is  no  use  '  dear  mothering  '  me.  I  know 
the  Cromwells.  Many  a  receipt  for  puddings  and  comfits  I 
have  given  Elizabeth  Cromwell,  and  shown  her  how  to  dye 
silk  and  stuffs;  yes,  and  loaned  her  my  silver  sconces  when 
Elizabeth  married  Mr.  Claypole  ;  and  now  to  think  of  her 
in  the  King's  palace,  and  people  bowing  down  to  her,  and 
hand-kissing,  and  what  not  !  And  as  for  Oliver  Croiri- 


200  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

well's  passions,  we  know  all  about  them  down  in  Cambridge 
shire,"  she  continued.  "  He  stamped  in  that  way  when 
some  one  preached  in  St.  Mary's  what  he  thought  rank 
popery  ;  and  about  the  draining  of  the  Fens,  he  kicked 
enough,  God  knows  !  Oh,  yes,  I  can  see  him  in  steel  and 
buff,  sword  in  hand,  and  musketeers  behind  him,  getting  his 
way — for  his  way  he  will  have — if  he  turn  England  hurly- 
burly  for  it." 

u  Martha,  he  wore  neither  steel  nor  buff,  and  his  sword 
was  far  from  him.  He  went  down  to  the  House  in  a  black 
cloth  suit  and  gray  worsted  stockings,  which,  no  doubt,  were 
of  his  wife's  knitting;  and  his  shoes  were  those  made  by 
Benjamin  Cudlip,  country  fashion,  low-cut,  with  steel 
latchets.  He  had  not  even  a  falling  collar  on,  just  a  band 
of  stitched  linen  round  his  neck." 

"  I  wonder,  oh,  I  hope  !  "  said  Jane,  "  that  it  was  one  of 
the  bands  I  stitched  when  I  was  last  staying  at  Whitehall." 

"  Find  it  out,  Jane  ;  settle  your  mind  that  it  was  one  of 
them,"  answered  Doctor  Verity  ;  "  and  then,  Jane,  you  may 
tell  it  to  your  children,  and  grandchildren,  God  willing." 

u  At  any  rate,"  continued  General  Swaffham,  "  Crom 
well  at  this  hour  owed  nothing  to  his  dress.  I  have  seen 
him  in  the  fields  by  St.  Ives,  and  in  Ely  Market,  in  the 
same  kind  of  clothing.  What  would  you  ?  And  what 
did  it  matter?  His  spirit  clothed  his  flesh,  and  the  power 
of  the  spirit  was  on  him,  so  that  the  men  in  velvet  and 
fine  lace  wilted  away  in  his  presence." 

"  No  one  minds  the  Lord  General's  having  power,  no  one 
minds  giving  him  honour  for  what  he  has  done  for  England, 
but  the  Cromwell  women  !  What  have  they  done  more 
than  others  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Swaffham. 

"  Be  at  peace,  Martha,"  said  General  Swaffham  ;  "here 
are  things  to  consider  of  far  greater  import  than  the  Crom- 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  201 

well  women.  How  the  nation  will  take  this  affair,  remains 
to  be  seen.  'Tis  true  the  Lord  General  was  cheered  all 
through  the  citv,  hut  he  knows — and  no  man  better — 
what  a  fickle  heart  the  populace  have.  As  like  as  not,  it 
will  be,  as  he  said  to  me,  '  Overturn,  overturn,  and  great 
tasks  on  all  sides.'  ' 

"  I  look  for  measureless  wrath  and  vain  babble,  and 
threats  heard  far  ami  wide,"  said  Doctor  Verity.  "  The 
people  have  been  given  what  they  wanted,  and  twenty  to 
one  they  will  now  nay-say  all  they  have  roared  for.  That 
would  be  like  the  rest  of  their  ways." 

For  once  Doctor  Verity  was  wrong.  This  master-stroke 
of  Cromwell's  went  straight  to  the  heart  of  London.  "  Not 
a  doy;  barked  against  it,"  said  Cromwell  to  his  friends,  and 

O  O  ' 

he  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  right.  Those  who 
called  it  "  usurpation  "  confessed  that  it  was  an  usurpation 
of  capability,  in  place  of  one  of  incapability.  Even  the 
lampoons  of  the  day  were  not  adverse  to  Cromwell,  while 
some  of  them  gave  him  a  grim  kind  of  pleasure. 

Thus,  one  morning,  Cluny  Neville  passing  the  Parlia 
ment  House  noticed  placards  on  its  walls,  and  going  close 
enough  to  read  them,  found  they  advertised  u  This  bouse  to 
let;  unfurnished."  And  when  he  told  this  to  Cromwell, 
that  faculty  in  the  man  which  sometimes  made  for  a  rude 
kind  of  mirth,  was  aroused,  and  he  burst  into  an  uproarious 
enjoyment  of  the  joke.  "I  wish,"  he  cried,  UI  wish  I 
knew  the  \va •>•  who  did  it.  I  would  ewe  him  a  crown  or 

^  D 

two,  I  would  indeed,  and  gladly." 

There  had  he-en  a  little  uncertainty  about  the  navv,  for 
Sir  Harry  Vane  had  shown  it  great  favour.  But  Admiral 
Robert  Blake  was  as  great  and  as  unselfish  a  man  in  his 
office  as  was  Oliver  Cromwell.  He  accepted  the  change 
without  dissent,  telling  his  fleet  simply  — 


202  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

u  It  is  not  the  business  of  seamen  to  mind  state  affairs. 
Our  business  is  to  keep  foreigners  from  fooling  us,  and  to 
find  the  Dutch  ships,  fight  them,  and  sink  them." 

And  yet  the  feeling  which  led  to  Mrs.  Swaffham's  little 
burst  of  temper  was  not  particular  to  herself.  Many  women 
felt  precisely  as  Martha  S waff  ham  did,  and  Cromwell  did 
not  take  this  element  into  his  consideration.  Yet  it  was 
one  that  worked  steadily  towards  its  reckoning,  for  men 
do  not  finally  withstand  the  ceaseless  dropping  fire  of  their 
own  hearthstones.  A4rs.  Fleetwood's  and  Mrs.  Lambert's 
ill-feeling  about  precedence  was  indefinitely  multiplied,  and 
Mrs.  Swaffham's  more  intimate  rejection  of  the  Cromwell 
women  was  a  stone  thrown  into  water  and  circling  near 
and  far.  The  Lord  General  Cromwell,  men  and  women 
alike,  could  accept  ;  he  had  fought  his  way  to  honour,  and 
they  could  give  him  what  he  had  won.  But  the  Cromwell 
women  had  done  nothing,  and  suffered  nothing  beyond  the 
ordinary  lot ;  it  was  a  much  harder  thing  to  render  homage 
unto  them.  In  these  days,  Mrs.  Swaffham,  though  ignoring 
the  late  King,  was  distinctly  royal  and  loyal  where  Queen 
Henrietta  Maria  was  concerned. 

But  it  was,  after  all,  a  grand  time  in  old  England.  Ad 
ventures  and  victories  were  the  news  of  every  day.  Noth 
ing  was  too  strange  to  happen ;  people  expected  romances 
and  impossibilities  ;  and  because  they  expected  them,  they 
came.  The  big  city  was  always  astir  with  news;  it  flew 
from  lip  to  lip,  like  wild  fire,  was  rung  out  from  every 
steeple,  and  flashed  in  bonfires  from  one  high  place  to  an 
other.  This  formidable  man  in  black  and  gray  was  at  the 
helm  of  affairs,  and  England  felt  that  she  might  now  trade 
and  sow  and  marry  and  be  happy  to  her  heart's  desire.  The 
shutting  of  the  Parliament  House  affected  nothing;  the  ma 
chinery  of  Government  went  on  without  let  or  hindrance. 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  203 

A  new  Parliament  was  quickly  summoned,  one  hundred 
and  forty  Puritan  notables  "  fearing  God  and  of  approved 
fidelity  and  honesty,"  and  it  was  to  begin  its  sittings  on  the 
ensuing  fourth  of  July.  Meantime,  Robert  Blake  was  wip 
ing  out  of  existence  the  Dutch  navy  and  the  Dutch  com 
merce.  In  the  month  of  June,  he  took  eleven  Dutch  men- 
of-war  and  one  thousand  three  hundred  and  fifty  prisoners; 
the  church  bells  rang  joyously  from  one  end  of  England  to 
the  other,  and  London  gathered  at  St.  Paul's  to  sing  Te 
Deums  for  the  victory. 

Thus  to  the  echoes  of  trumpets  and  cannon  the  business 
of  living  and  loving  went  on.  The  great  national  events 
were  only  chorus  to  the  dramas  and  tragedies  of  the  highest 
and  the  humblest  homes.  While  Cromwell  was  issuing 
writs  for  a  new  Parliament  and  holding  the  reins  of  Gov 
ernment  tightly  in  his  strong  hands,  his  wife  and  daughters 
were  happily  busy  about  the  marriage  of  young  Harry 
Cromwell  to  Elizabeth  Russel ;  and  Sir  Peter  Lely  was 
painting  their  portraits,  and  Lady  Mary  Cromwell  had  her 
first  lover;  and  Mrs.  SwafFham  was  making  the  cowslip 
wine;  and  the  Eermor  and  Heneage  girls  off  to  Bath  for 
trifling  and  bathing  and  idle  diversions  ;  and  Tane  sewing 

O  O  tJ  o 

the  sweetest  and  tenderest  thoughts  into  the  fine  linen  and 
cambric  which  she  was  fashioning  into  garments  for  her 
own  marriage.  In  every  family  circle  it  was  the  same 
thing  :  the  little  comedies  of  life  went  on,  whether  Parlia 
ment  sat  or  not,  whether  Blake  brought  in  prizes,  or  lay 
watching  in  the  Channel ;  for,  after  all,  what  the  people 
really  wanted  was  peace  and  leisure  to  attend  to  their  own 
affairs. 

One  lovely  morning  in  this  jubilant  English  spring,  Jane 
sat  at  the  open  window  writing  to  Matilda  de  Wick.  All 
the  sweet  fresh  things  of  the  earth  and  the  air  were  around 


204  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

her,  but  she  was  the  sweetest  and  freshest  of  all.  There 
was  a  pleasant  smile  on  her  lips  as  her  ringers  moved  across 
the  white  paper.  She  was  telling  her  friend  about  Harry 
Cromwell's  marriage  in  the  old  church  at  Kensington  ; 
about  the  dresses  and  the  wedding  feast,  and  the  delightful 
way  in  which  the  Lord  General  had  taken  his  new  daughter 
to  his  heart.  "  And  what  now  will  Mistress  Dorothy  Os- 
borne  do?"  she  asked.  "To  be  sure,  she  is  said  to  be 
greatly  taken  with  Sir  William  Temple,  who  is  of  her  own 
way  of  thinking- — which  Harry  Cromwell  is  not,  though 
Mrs.  Hutchinson  has  spoken  of  him  everywhere  as  a  '  de 
bauched,  ungodly  cavalier;'  but  Mrs.  Hutchinson  has  a 
Presbyterian  hatred  of  the  Cromwells.  And  I  must  also 
tell  you  that  the  Lords  Chandos  and  Arundel  have  been 
tried  before  the  Upper  Bench  for  the  killing  of  Mr.  Comp- 
ton  in  a  duel.  The  crime  was  found  manslaughter,  and 
they  were  sentenced  to  be  burned  in  the  hand  which  was 
done  to  them  both,  but  very  favourably.  And  the  Earl  of 
Leicester  said  he  was  glad  of  it,  for  it  argued  a  good  stiff 
government  to  punish  men  of  such  high  birth ;  but  my 
father  thinks  Leicester  to  be  the  greatest  of  levelers,  he 
would  abolish  all  rank  and  titles  but  his  own.  And  I  must 
also  tell  you  that  General  Monk  has  discovered  his  mar 
riage  to  Ann  Clarges  a  market-woman  of  low  birth,  no 
beauty  whatever,  and  a  very  ill  tongue.  My  mother  is 
sure  the  General  must  have  been  bewitched ;  however, 
Mistress  Monk  has  gone  to  live  in  Greenwich  palace,  which 
has  been  given  to  the  General  for  a  residence.  And  the 
rest  of  my  news  is  in  a  nutshell,  Matilda.  I  heard  from 
Tonbert  that  your  brother  had  been  seen  at  de  Wick,  but 
this  I  discredit.  Did  he  not  PO  with  you  to  France  ? 

D  J 

Cymlin  is  in  Ireland,  and  sulking  at  his  banishment  to  so 
barbarous  a  country  ;  and  so  I  make  an  end  of  this  long 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  205 

letter,  saying  in   a  word   I  am  your  friend  entirely  and  sin 
cerely,  Jane  Swaffham." 

When  Matilda  received  this  letter  she  was  in  Paris. 
Her  first  resting-place  had  been  at  The  Hague,  where  she 
had  speedily  been  made  known  to  the  Princess  Eliza 
beth  Stuart,  the  widowed  ex-Queen  of  Bohemia,  and  the 
mother  of  Prince  Rupert.  In  her  poverty-stricken  Court 
Matilda  found  kindred  spirits,  and  she  became  intimate 
with  the  light-hearted  Queen  and  her  clever  daughters. 
For  in  spite  of  the  constant  want  of  money,  it  was  a  Court 
abounding  in  wit  and  fun,  in  running  about  The  Hague  in 
disguise ;  in  private  theatricals,  singing  and  dancing,  and 
other  "  very  hilarious  amusements,"  deeply  disgusting  to  the 
English  Puritans. 

O 

So,  then,  while  Sir  Thomas  Jevery  was  busy  about  his 
ships  and  his  merchandise,  Lady  Jevery  and  Matilda  spent 
much  time  with  the  ex-Queen,  her  dogs  and  her  monkeys, 
her  sons  and  her  daughters,  and  the  crowd  of  Cavalier  gen 
tlemen  who  made  the  house  at  The  Hague  a  gathering 
place.  Rupert,  however,  had  never  been  his  mother's 
favourite,  yet  she  was  proud  of  his  valour  and  achieve 
ments,  and  not  generally  indisposed  to  talk  to  Matilda  about 
her  "  big  hero."  It  pleased  her  most  to  describe  with 
melodramatic  thrills  his  baptism  in  the  great  old  palace  of 
Prague,  his  ivory  cradle  embossed  with  gold  and  gems,  and 
his  wardrobe — "  the  richest  he  ever  had  in  his  life,  poor  in 
fant  ;" — and  then  she  continued,  "  He  was  not  a  lucky 
child.  Misfortune  came  with  him.  He  was  not  a  year 
old  when  the  Austrians  overran  Bohemia,  and  we  were 
without  a  Kingdom— a  king  and  a  queen  without  a  crown. 
Well,  I  have  my  dogs  and  my  monkeys." 

"  Which  your  Majesty  greatly  prefers  to  your  sons  and 
daughters,"  said  the  witty  young  Princess  Sophie. 


206  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  They  give  me  fewer  heartaches,  Sophie,"  was  the 
answer.  "  Look,  for  instance,  at  your  brother  Rupert. 
What  an  incorrigible  he  is  !  What  anxieties  have  I  not 
suffered  for  him.  And  Maurice,  who  must  get  himself 
drowned  all  because  of  his  adoration  of  Rupert !  Oh,  the 
poor  Prince  Rupert !  he  is,  as  I  say,  most  unlucky.  I  told 
my  august  brother  Charles  the  same  thing,  and  he  listened 
not,  until  everything  was  lost,  and  it  was  too  late.  The 
great  God  only  knows  what  calamities  there  are  in  this 
world." 

"  But  Prince  Rupert  has  been  the  hope  and  support  of 
his  cousin's  Court  in  the  Louvre  for  three  years,"  said 
Matilda  warmly ;  "  it  is  not  right  to  make  little  of  what  he 
has  done." 

"  He  has  done  miracles,  my  dear  Lady  Matilda,"  answered 
Rupert's  mother ;  "  but  the  miracles  never  pay.  We  are 
all  of  us  wretchedly  poor.  He  sells  his  valour  and  his 
blood  for  nothing  worth  while." 

"  He  is  the  greatest  soldier  and  sailor  in  the  world ;  so 
much  even  his  enemies  admit." 

"  There  are  no  results,"  said  the  ex-Queen,  with  a  gay 
laugh  and  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders.  "  And  I  am  told  he 
has  learned  magic  among  the  Africans,  and  brought  home 
blackamoors  and  finer  monkeys  than  my  own.  I  object  to 
nothing,  since  he  assures  me  of  his  undying  love  for  my 
self  and  the  Protestant  religion.  I  assure  you,  if  he  did 
not  love  the  Protestant  religion  I  should  find  no  difficulty 
in  renouncing;  him." 

O 

"  He  was  too  well  educated  in  his  religion  to  forget  it, 
madame,"  said  the  Princess  Louise. 

"  I  am  not  to  blame  if  it  were  otherwise.  I  assure  you  he 
knows  his  Heidelberg  Catechism  as  well  as  any  Doctor  of 
Divinity,  and  the  History  of  the  Reformers  is  at  his 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  207 

tongue's  end.  I  am  not  in  health  to  go  regularly  to  church, 
but  my  children  go  without  omission,  and  they  give  me  the 
points  of  the  sermon  in  writing,  I  do  my  duty  to  them  ; 
and  of  Rupert  I  had  once  great  hopes,  for  the  first  words 
he  ever  spoke  were  '  Praise  the  Lord,'  in  the  Bohemian 
tongue.  After  that,  one  does  not  readily  think  evil  of  a 
Prince." 

Every  day  Matilda  adroitly  induced  such  conversations ; 
and  once  when  the  mother  had  talked  herself  into  an  en 
thusiasm,  she  said,  "  Come  and  I  will  show  you  some  pic 
tures  of  this  Rupert.  His  sister  Louise  makes  portraits 
quite  equal  to  those  of  her  master,  Honthorst.  I  may  tell 
you  frankly,  we  have  sold  her  pictures  for  bread  often  ; 
they  are  said  to  be  Honthorst's,  but  most  often  they  are  the 
work  of  the  Princess  Louise.  The  poor  child  !  she  paints 
and  she  paints,  and  forgets  that  she  is  a  Palatine  Princess 
without  a  thaler  for  her  wardrobe.  Look  at  this  portrait 
of  Rupert !  Is  he  not  a  big,  sturdy  boy  ?  He  was  only 
four  then,  but  he  looks  eight.  How  full  of  brave  wonder 
are  those  eyes,  as  he  looks  out  on  the  unknown  world  ! 
And  in  this  picture  he  is  fourteen.  He  does  not  appear 
happy.  No,  but  rather  sad  and  uncertain,  as  if  he  had  not 
found  the  world  as  pleasant  as  he  expected.  In  this 
picture  he  is  seventeen,  gallant  and  handsome  and  smiling. 
He  has  begun  to  hope  again, — perhaps  to  love.  And  look 
now  on  this  face  at  twenty-nine  ;  he  has  carried  too  heavy 
a  burden  for  his  age,  done  too  much,  suffered  too  much." 

Matilda  knew  the  latter  portrait  well,  its  facsimile  lay 
upon  her  heart ;  and  though  she  aid  not  say  a  word,  it 
was  impossible  not  to  notice  in  all  the  painted  faces  that 
strange,  haunting  Stuart  melancholy,  which  must  have  had 
its  root  in  some  sorrowful,  unfathomable  past. 

On  another  evening  they  were  talking  of  England,  and 


208  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

of  recent  events  there,  chiefly  of  the  high-handed  dismissal 
of  the  Parliament,  and  the  gay-hearted  Elizabeth  laughed 
at  the  affair  very  complacently.  "  I  am  an  English  Prin 
cess,"  she  said,  "  but  I  hate  parliaments ;  so  did  his  late 
Majesty,  my  brother  Charles.  But  for  the  Parliament,  my 
fate  might  have  been  different.  I  adored  my  husband,  that 
is  known,  but  it  was  the  Parliament  who  made  our  mar 
riage.  My  father,  the  great  and  wise  King  James,  did  not 
wish  me  to  marry  the  Elector  Palatine, — it  was  a  poor 
match  for  the  Princess  Royal  of  England, — but  the  Parlia 
ment  thought  the  Elector  would  make  himself  the  leader  cf 
the  Calvinistic  princes  of  the  Empire.  My  dear  Lady 
Alatilda,  he  was  sixteen  years  old,  and  I  was  sixteen,  and 
we  two  children,  what  could  we  do  with  those  turbulent 
Bohemian  Protestants  ?  You  make  a  stir  about  your 
Oliver  Cromwell  ordering  the  English  Members  of  Parlia 
ment  out  of  their  own  House,  listen  then  :  the  Protestant 
nobles  of  Bohemia  threw  the  Emperor's  ministers  and 
members  out  of  their  Council  Chamber  windows.  It  was 
only  their  way  of  telling  the  Emperor  they  would  not  have 
the  Catholic  King  he  supported.  The  English  adore  the 
Law,  and  will  commit  any  crime  in  it  and  for  it ;  the 
Bohemians  are  a  law  unto  themselves.  They  then  asked 
us  to  come  to  Prague,  and  we  went  and  were  crowned 
there,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  glory,  the  Prince  Rupert  was 
born.  He  was  a  wonder  for  his  great  size,  even  then. 
And  he  had  for  his  sponsors  the  King  of  Hungary  and  the 
Duke  of  Wurtenburg  and  the  States  of  Bohemia,  Silesia, 
and  Upper  and  Lower  Lusatia.  Yet  in  less  than  a  year  we 
were  all  fugitives,  and  the  poor  child  was  thrown  aside  by 
his  frightened  nurse,  and  found  lying  alone  on  the  floor 
by  Baron  d'Hona,  who  threw  him  into  the  last  coach  leav 
ing  the  palace ;  and  he  fell  into  the  boot  and  nearly  per- 


CROMWELL  INTERFERES  209 

ished.  So  you  see  how  unfortunate  he  was  from  the  begin 
ning." 

"  But,  madame,  you  have  a  large  family  ;  some  of  them 
will  surely  retrieve  your  misfortunes." 

u  I  do  not  trouble  myself  about  the  day  I  have  never 
seen.  There  is  a  great  astrologer  in  Paris,  and  he  has  told 
me  that  my  daughter  Sophia  will  bear  a  son,  who  will  be 
come  King  of  England.  Sophia  gives  herself  airs  on  this 
prediction." 

Sophia,  who  was  present,  laughed  heartily.  "  Indeed, 
madame,"  she  said,  "  and  when  I  am  Queen  Mother  I  shall 
abolish  courtesies.  Imagine,  Lady  de  Wick,  that  I  cannot 
cat  my  dinner  without  making  nine  separate  courtesies,  and 
on  Sundays  and  Wednesdays,  when  we  have  two  divines 
to  eat  with  us,  there  are  extra  ones.  I  shall  regulate  my 
Court  with  the  least  amount  of  etiquette  that  will  be 
decent." 

u  You  perceive,  Lady  de  Wick,  what  a  trial  it  is  to  have 
four  clever  daughters — not  to  speak  of  sons.  Aly  daugh 
ter,  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  is  the  most  learned  of  women  ; 
I  think  she  knows  every  language  under  the  sun.  You 
have  seen  the  paintings  of  the  Princess  Louise.  Sophia  is 
witty  and  pretty,  and  is  to  be  the  mother  of  an  English 
King;  and  my  fair  Henrietta  is  a  beauty,  and  what  is  re 
markable,  she  is  also  amiable,  and  makes  adorable  embroid 
eries  and  confections.  So  the  mother  of  four  such  prin 
cesses  must  not  complain." 

"  Especially  when  she  has  seventeen  dogs  and  horses  ; 
not  to  speak  of  monkeys  and  blackamoors,"  cried  Sophia. 

"Sophia  is  jealous!"  said  the  merry  ex-Queen.  "So 
is  Rupert.  Now,  I  am  never  jealous;  I  think  jealousy  is 
selfishness." 

Such    intimate    conversations  occurred   daily   while   Ma- 


210  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

tilda  frequented  the  House  at  The  Hague  ;  and  when  Sir 
Thomas  Jevery  was  ready  to  proceed  to  Paris,  the  ladies 
did  not  leave  their  pleasant  entertainer  without  tangible, 
financial  proof  of  their  interest  in  the  Palatines.  The 
light-hearted,  dependent  Elizabeth  took  the  offering  with 
open  satisfaction.  "  It  is  very  welcome,"  she  said  grate 
fully  ;  "  and  the  more  so,  because  it  is  so  sensibly  ex 
pressed.  Some  would  have  thought  it  best  to  offer  me  a 
jewel,  and  so  put  my  steward  to  the  trouble  of  selling  it, 
and  me  to  the  loss.  Oh !  "  she  sighed,  smiling  cheerfully 
at  the  same  time,  "  it  is  a  sad  thing  to  be  poor  for  want  of 
money ;  poverty  is  so  transparent.  If  you  have  only 
money,  it  is  a  cloak  for  everything." 


CHAPTER  X 

RUPERT    AND    CLUNY 

"  Beauty  formed 
Her  face ;    her  heart  Fidelity." 

"  For  he  was  of  that  noble  trade, 
That  demigods  and  heroes  made  ; 
Slaughter,  and  knocking  on  the  head, 
The  trade  to  which  they  all  were  bred." 

WHEN  the  Jeverys  arrived  in  Paris,  they  went  immedi 
ately  to  the  beautiful  Hotel  de  Fransac,  which  Sir  Thomas 
had  rented  for  their  residence  while  in  the  city.  It  was 
situated  in  La  Place  Royale,  almost  within  sight  of  the 
palaces  of  the  King  and  the  Cardinal.  But  Sir  Thomas 
considered  it  necessary  to  the  success  of  his  business  with 
Mazarin  to  wear  the  outside  show  of  great  wealth,  and  it 
was  quite  as  necessary  to  Matilda's  hopes  and  desires.  If 
she  would  keep  in  enthralment  a  prince,  she  must,  at  least, 
be  the  princess  of  his  imagination.  In  reality,  she  was 
now  much  more  so  than  ever  before.  Years  and  sorrow 
and  manifold  experiences  had  imparted  to  the  mere  loveli 
ness  of  the  flesh  the  captivating  charm  of  the  spirit.  She 
was  now  a  woman,  not  only  to  be  adored  for  her  beauty, 
but  still  more  so  for  the  qualities  that  would  be  in  their 
perfection  when  beauty  of  face  and  form  had  faded  away. 

And  with  this  rarer  loveliness  there  had  come  a  kind  of 
necessity  to  express  it  in  clothing  marvelously  splendid  and 
effective.  The  palace  in  which  she  was  abiding  also  de- 

211 


212  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

manded  it :  the  enormous  spaces  given  to  stairways  and 
apartments,  the  magnificent  furniture,  the  gorgeously  liv 
eried  servants,  were  only  the  natural  accessories  of  some 
personage  whose  nobility  or  authority  or  wealth  found  in 
such  splendour  a  fitting  expression. 

One  afternoon  Matilda  stood  at  a  window  watching  the 
crowds  passing  incessantly  from  palace  to  palace.  Silk  and 
velvet  and  lace  fluttered  in  the  bright  sunshine ;  jewels 
flashed  from  the  soft  hats,  and  the  gleaming  vests  and  the 
ready  weapons.  They  were  kissing  hands,  drawing  swords, 
falling  on  one  knee  before  some  beauty  or  dignitary  ;  they 
were  laughing  and  swearing,  and  wooing  and  fighting,  and 
riding  and  driving,  as  if  life  was  only  a  grand  Court 
pageant. 

To  the  right  was  the  palace  of  the  great  King  Louis,  and 
not  far  away  the  palace  of  his  Eminence,  the  great  Cardi 
nal  Mazarin  ;  and  between  them,  the  crowd  amused  itself, 
conscious  all  the  time  of  that  other  palace  for  the  Unfor 
tunates,  called  the  Bastile.  Its  shadow  was  always  over 
Place  Royale  ;  dark,  inexorable,  mysterious  ;  and  every  soul 
of  them  knew  that  either  road,  or  any  road,  might  lead  them 
to  that  silent,  living  sepulchre.  How  different  was  all  this 
from  the  cool,  gray,  busy  streets  of  London,  with  their 
steady  movement  of  purposeful  men  and  women  ! 

Matilda  appeared  to  be  watching  the  brilliant  scene  in  La 
Place  Royale,  but  she  was  taking  no  special  notice  of  it. 
She  had  just  received  a  letter  from  Jane,  and  was  ponder 
ing  the  news  it  brought  her  and  waiting.  She  was  won 
derfully  dressed,  and  wonderfully  lovely,  the  delicate 
brightness  of  her  complexion  admirably  enhanced  by  the 
darkness  of  her  hair,  and  the  robe  of  ruby-coloured  Lyons 
velvet  in  which  she  was  dressed.  It  fell  away  in  billows 
of  lace  from  her  white  throat  and  shoulders  ;  and  its  large 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  213 

sleeves  were  lifted  above  the  elbows  with  bands  of  Oriental 
pearls.  There  were  pearls  round  her  throat  and  round  her 
arms,  and  the  golden  combs  that  held  back  her  hair  were 
ornamented  with  them. 

She  was  dressed  for  her  lover,  and  awaiting  his  arrival, 
her  soul  flashing  from  her  watching  eyes,  her  whole  sweet 
body  at  attention.  When  to  ordinary  ears  there  would 
have  been  nothing  to  give  notice,  Matilda  heard  a  step. 
She  let  Jane's  letter  drop  to  her  feet,  and  stood  facing  the 
door  with  hands  dropped  and  tightly  clasped.  She  was  very 
tall  and  her  long  velvet  gown  gave  emphasis  to  her  stature. 
Unconsciously  she  had  advanced  her  right  foot — indeed,  her 
whole  body  had  the  eager  look  of  one  whose  soul  was  out- 
reaching  it. 

A  moment  later  the  footsteps  were  very  distinct ;  they 
were  ascending  the  stairway  quickly,  peremptorily — the 
tread  of  impatience  where  all  obstacles  have  been  removed. 
A  perfectly  ravishing  light  spread  itself  over  Matilda's  face. 
A  moment  was  an  hour.  Then  the  door  flew  open  and 
Prince  Rupert  entered;  "entered,"  however,  being  too 
small  a  word,  for  with  the  opening  of  the  door  he  was  on 
his  knees  at  Matilda's  feet,  his  arms  were  round  her 
waist,  she  had  bent  her  face  to  his,  they  were  both  near  to 
weeping  and  knew  it  not;  for  love  must  weep  when  it 
snatches  from  some  hard  Fate's  control  the  hours  that 
years  have  sighed  for. 

"  Adorable  Mata  !  O  lovely  and  beloved  !  O  my  love," 
he  sighed.  "  O  Mata,  my  flower  !  my  wine  !  my  music  ! 
my  sacred  secret  !  "  • 

She  kissed  him,  and  made  him  rise.  And  he  told  her 
ao-ain,  all  the  waste,  weary  remembrance  of  his  life  apart 

O  *  '  •>  L 

from  her,  and  showed  her  the  long  tress  of  hair  which  had 
kept  for  him  the  kisses  and  vows  of  long  ago.  And  with 


2i4  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

what  sweet  sighs  she  answered  him  !  Her  tender  eyes,  her 
happy  mouth,  her  soft  tones,  her  gentle  touch,  were  all  to 
kens  from  her  heart's  immediate  sanctuary.  Amid  the  sins 
and  sorrows  and  shows  of  Paris,  there  was  paradise  for  two 
hearts  in  the  Hotel  de  Fransac. 

In  these  days  men  and  women  did  really  live  and  die  for 
love,  and  a  lover  who  did  not  fall  at  his  mistress'  feet  was 
held  graceless  and  joyless,  and  without  natural  fervour.  And 
Rupert  could  do  everything  in  excess  and  yet  be  natural, 
for  all  his  being  was  abnormally  developed;  his  gigantic 
stature,  his  passionate  soul,  his  unreasoning  love,  his  reck 
less  bravery,  his  magnificent  generosity,  his  bitter  enmities, 
were  all  points  in  which  he  offended  against  the  usual 
standard — though  it  was  a  large  standard,  if  measured  by  the 
conventions  of  the  present  day.  He  had  been  dangerously 
ill  after  his  arrival  in  Paris,  and  he  was  not  the  Rupert  who 
had  invaded  the  high  seas  three  years  previously.  In  these 
three  years  he  had  endured  every  evil  that  tempests,  bad 
climates,  war,  fever,  want  of  food  and  "  strange  hard 
nesses  "  of  all  kinds  could  bring  him ;  and  above  all  he  had 
practically  failed  in  everything.  He  had  lost  most  of  the 
treasure  so  hardly  won  ;  his  ships  and  his  men  and  his  idol 
ised  brother,  Maurice;  and  all  these  losses  had  taken  with 
them  some  of  the  finer  parts  of  his  nature.  He  had  come 
home  a  disappointed  and  cynical  man,  his  youth  melted 
away  in  the  fiery  crucible  of  constant  strife  with  human  and 
elemental  forces. 

Yet  he  was  the  most  picturesque  figure  in  Paris.  The 
young  King  Louis  delighted  in  his  society.  Mazarin  was 
his  friend,  and  not  only  the  English  Court  in  exile,  but  also 
the  French  Court  paid  him  the  most  extraordinary  atten 
tions.  His  striking  personality,  his  barbaric  retinue  of 
black  servants,  his  supposed  wealth,  the  whispers  of  his 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  215 

skill  in  necromancy,  were  adJed  to  a  military  and  naval 
reputation  every  one  seemed  desirous  to  embellish.  Many 
great  ladies  were  deeply  in  love  with  him,  but  their  per 
fumed  billet-doux  touched  neither  his  heart  nor  his  vanity. 

He  loved  Matilda.  All  the  glory  and  the  sorrow  of  his 
youth  were  in  that  love,  and  as  he  knelt  at  her  feet  in  his 
princely,  soldierly  splendour,  there  was  nothing  lacking  in 
the  picture  of  romantic  devotion.  "  Adorable,  ravishing 
Mata  !  "  he  cried,  "  at  your  feet  I  am  paid  for  my  life's 
misery."  And  Matilda  leaned  towards  him  till  their  hand 
some  faces  touched,  and  Rupert  could  look  love  into  her 
eyes,  soft  and  languishing  with  an  equal  affection. 

"  How  tall  you  have  grown.  You  have  the  stature  of  a 
goddess,"  he  cried  with  rapture  ;  and  then  in  a  tone  full  of 
seriousness  he  added, 

"  You  are  my  mate.  You  are  the  only  woman  I  can 
ever  love.  I  vow  that  you  shall  be  my  princess,  or  I  will 
die  unmarried  for  your  sake." 

For  a  little  while  their  conversation  was  purely  personal, 
but  their  own  interests  were  so  blent  with  public  affairs 
that  it  was  not  possible  to  separate  them  for  any  length  of 
time. 

"We  have  sold  all  our  cargoes,"  he  said  triumphantly, 
"  in  spite  of  old  Cromwell's  remonstrances.  Mazarin 
helped  us,  and  the  money  is  distributed.  What  can  Crom 
well  do  ?  Will  he  go  to  war  with  France  for  a  merchant's 
bill  of  lading  ?  The  King  and  the  Cardinal  laugh  at  his 
demands.  He  is  an  insolent  fellow.  Does  he  think  he  can 
match  his  Eminence  ?  But,  this  or  that,  the  money  is  scat 
tered  to  the  four  quarters  of  the  world.  Let  him  recover 
it." 

"I  will  tell  you  something,  Rupert.  I  had  a  letter  to 
day  from  my  friend,  Mistress  Jane  Swaffham.  She  says 


216  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

her  lover,  Lord   Cluny  Neville,  must  be  in  Paris  about  this 
time,  and  that  he  will  call  on   me.      He  is  on  Cromwell's 
business  ;  there  is  no  doubt  of  it." 
"  Do  you  wish  to  see  the  man  ?  " 

"  No.  He  has  stolen  my  brother's  mistress.  He  has 
done  Stephen  a  great  wrong ;  and  he  is  also  full  of  perfec 
tions.  A  very  sufficient  youth  in  his  own  opinion,  and 
much  honoured  and  trusted  by  his  Excellency,  the  Lord 
General  Cromwell." 

She  spoke  with  evident  scorn,  and  Rupert  said,  "I  shall 
have    to    reckon    with    him.      Stephen's    wrongs    are    my 
wrongs.      Is  the  lady  fair  and  rich  ?  " 
"  'Tis  thought  so.      I  once  loved  her." 
"  And  now,  you  love  her  not ;  eh,  sweetheart  ?  " 
"  There  is  Cromwell  between  us — and  Neville." 
"  What   is   the  appearance  of  Neville  ?     I  think  I  saw 
him  this  morning." 

Then  Matilda  described  the  young  lord,  and  the  particu 
larity  of  her  knowledge  regarding  his  eyes  and  hair  and 
voice  and  manner  did  not  please  Prince  Rupert.  At  least, 
he  affected  to  be  jealous  of  such  intimate  observation,  and 
for  a  few  minutes  the  affairs  of  Cromwell  and  Mazarin 
were  forgotten  in  one  of  those  whiffs  of  displeasure  with 
which  lovers  season  their  affections.  But  during  it,  Ma 
tilda  had  felt  obliged  to  speak  disparagingly  and  disagreeably 
of  Neville,  and  she  was  only  too  sensible  afterwards  of  all 
the  ill-will  she  had  expressed.  In  putting  the  dormant  dis 
like  into  words,  she  had  brought  it  into  actual  existence. 

"  A  very  haughty  youth,"  said  Rupert  when  the  conver 
sation  was  resumed.  "  He  was  with  the  Cardinal  this 
morning,  and  bore  himself  as  if  he  carried  the  honour  of 
England  on  his  shoulders.  And  now  I  begin  to  remember 
his  business  was  such  as  in  a  manner  concerns  us.  'Twas 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  217 

about  a  merchant  ship  which  that  old  farmer  on  King 
Charles'  throne  wants  payment  for.  My  men  took  it  in 
fair  fight,  and  'tis  against  all  usage  to  give  back  spoils. 
The  demands  of  Cromwell  are  beyond  measure  insolent, 
and  the  [roods  are  gone  and  the  ship  is  sold  and  the  money 

O  O  i  J 

scattered,  and  what  can  old  Ironsides  do  in  the  matter  ?  " 

They  talked  of  these  things  until  Rupert's  engagements 
called  him  away,  then  they  rose,  and  leaning  towards  each 
other,  walked  slowly  down  the  long  splendid  room  together. 
Large  mirrors  repeated  the  moving  picture  they  made,  and 
before  one  of  them  Rupert  stood,  and  bid  Matilda  survey 
her  own  beauty.  It  was  verv  great  and  bewitching  and  its 

/  ,O  O  * 

effect  was  certainly  heightened  by  the  handsome,  pictur 
esque  figure  at  her  side.  There  he  kissed  her  with  the 
fondest  love  and  pride,  promising  an  early  visit  on  the  fol 
lowing  day. 

She  went  then  to  find  her  uncle  and  aunt,  for  she  knew 
that  she  owed  to  their  love  and  generosity  her  present  op 
portunities,  and  though  her  gratitude  had  in  it,  very  likely, 
a  certain  sense  of  favours  to  come,  she  was  really  pleased 
and  thankful  for  the  happiness  present  and  within  her  reach. 
But  she  quickly  noticed  in  them  an  air  of  anxiety  and 
gloom,  and  it  annoyed  her.  "  Could  she  never  be  happy 
and  find  all  her  surroundings  in  key  with  her?  It  was  too 
bad  !  "  Such  thoughts  gave  a  tone  of  injury  to  her  inquiry, 

"  Is  anything  particularly  wrong,  aunt  ?  Have  I  been 
making  some  trouble  again  ?  " 

"  Sir  Thomas  is  verv  unhappy,  niece.  He  has  heard 
news  that  frightens  him,  and  we  are  longing  to  be  in  the 
peace  and  safety  of  our  own  home." 

Then  Matilda  began  to  complain.  "  As  soon  as  a  joy 
is  at  my  hand,  it  is  taken  away,"  she  said.  "  And  what 
a  lovely  city  is  Paris  !  How  can  any  one  want  to  leave 


218  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

it  and  go  to  London  ?  It  is  cruel.  It  is  beyond  bear 
ing  !  " 

"  Niece,  dear  niece,"  said  Sir  Thomas,  "  you  have  had 
many  happy  meetings  now  with  your  lover.  You  said 
1  one  '  would  make  you  happy.  While  he  was  so  ill,  con 
sider  to  what  trouble  and  expense  I  gladly  went,  in  order 
that  you  might  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  his  con 
stant  condition.  Be  reasonable,  Matilda.  I  have  already 
done  far  more  than  I  promised,  and  now  affairs  are  in  such 
a  state  that  I  feel  it  best  to  go  home.  I  do  long  for  my 
home  and  my  garden.  I  have  missed  all  my  roses  this  sum 
mer.  And  the  business  I  came  to  settle  has  been  suddenly 
settled  for  me." 

"  You  are  going  to  lose  a  little  gold,  and  so  you  are 
wretched,  and  must  go  to  the  City-of-the-Miserable." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  lose  a  penny." 

"  Well,  then  ?  " 

"  There  may  be  trouble  because  of  this  very  thing,  and 
I  do  not  want  to  be  in  Paris  with  the  two  women  I  love  bet 
ter  than  myself,  if  Cromwell  and  Mazarin  come  to  blows. 
I  might  be  taken  from  you.  I  should  very  likely  be  sent  to 
the  Bastile  ;  you  would  not  wish  that,  Matilda  ?  " 

"  That  is  nonsense  !  But  will  you  tell  me  what  is  this 
last  outrage  of  Cromwell's  ?  " 

"  Blake,  by  his  orders,  has  taken  a  French  merchantman. 
It  was  brought  to  London  and  sold  with  the  cargo,  and  the 
money  received  from  this  sale  was  used  to  cancel  the  debt 
owing  me  by  the  French  Government.  All  the  papers  re 
lating  to  the  transaction,  with  the  balance  of  the  money, 
were  turned  over  to  Mazarin  this  morning.  The  Cardinal 
was  furious.  He  called  me  into  his  Presence  Chamber, 
and  though  his  words  were  smooth  as  oil,  he  pointed  out 
the  wrong  of  such  high-handed  management  of  debit  and 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  219 

credit  between  two  nations.  Also,  he  was  much  chagrined 
at  the  seal  on  the  papers,  the  design  of  which  represents 
England's  navy  as  filling  the  seas.  Pie  said  scornfully, 
'  I  perceive  his  Excellency  has  very  merchant-like  ways  of 
business,  and  has  not  yet  learned  king-craft;'  then  he  was 
silent  a  moment,  and  smiled, — my  dear  wife  and  niece,  try 
and  fancy  a  serpent  smiling, — after  which  he  handed  me 
the  seals  again,  and  still  smiling,  continued,  '  'Tis  in  the 
mercy  of  the  Almighty  that  He  has  been  kind  enough  to 
make  the  seas  so  wide  as  to  permit  poor  French  sailornicn 
a  little  pathway  through  His  great  waters.  His  Excellency, 
Oliver  Cromwell,  would  have  no  ships  but  English  ships — 
very  patriotic,  but  perhaps  patriotism  is  a  smaller  virtue  than 
people  think;  justice  may  be  greater.  As  forme,'  he  added, 
casting  his  eyes  to  heaven,  '  as  for  me,  'tis  in  my  vows  to 
love  all  men.'  Much  more  was  said,  but  these  are  the  par 
ticulars  as  I  remember  them." 

"  He  is  a  great  hypocrite,"  said  Lady  Jevery.  "  He 
loves  very  few  men,  and  no  one  loves  him." 

"  Is  that  all,  uncle  ?  " 

"  He  turned  sharply  to  Lord  Neville,  asked  to  look  at  his 
credentials  again,  and  called  for  an  accountant.  He  seemed 
to  forget  my  existence,  and  I  asked  permission  to  retire.  I 
am  very  uneasy  in  my  mind.  Mazarin's  good  words  are 
not  to  be  trusted;  his  silence  is  to  be  feared.  I  must  leave 
France  as  soon  as  possible.  My  affairs  have  been  taken 
out  of  Mazarin's  hands  by  Cromwell ;  he  will  visit  the 
offense  on  me.  Every  moment  is  full  of  uncertainty  and 
danger." 

"  Prince  Rupert  will  not  see  us  injured." 

"  I  cannot  take  Prince  Rupert  for  our  surety.  He  has 
not  yet  spoken  to  me  about  your  marriage.  He  is  at  the 
mercy  of  so  many  minds." 


220  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  That  detestable  Lord  Neville  !  Ever  and  always,  he 
brings  me  trouble  and  sorrow.  There  are  half-a-dozen  of 

O 

my  lovers  who  would  run  him  through  for  a  look.  I  would 
do  it  myself.  You  need  not  smile,  sir,  I  am  as  ready  with 
the  sword  as  any  man,  and  have  matched  both  Stephen  and 
Cymlin  Swaffam.  I  hate  Neville.  I  would  most  willingly 
make  an  end  of  him." 

"  Hush,  Matilda !  Your  words  belie  you.  You  mean 
them  not.  But  there  is  no  time  for  words  now,  we  shall 
leave  here  for  England  in  two  days.  If  Prince  Rupert 
loves  you  so  much  as  to  marry  you,  there  are  ways  and 
means  to  accomplish  that  end.  If  money  only  is  the  lack, 
I  shall  be  no  miser,  if  I  may  ensure  your  happiness." 

"  Dear  uncle,  shall  we  not  return  by  The  Hague  ?  " 

"No.  Lord  Neville  has  promised  to  do  my  business 
there.  It  is  only  a  matter  of  collecting  a  thousand  pounds 
from  my  merchant;  but  he  is  going  to  take  charge  of  your 
aunt's  jewels,  and  you  had  better  trust  yours  also  with  him. 
They  will  be  safer  in  the  saddle  of  a  horseman  than  in  a 
guarded  traveling  coach.  In  the  latter  case,  robbers  are 
sure  there  is  plunder;  in  the  former  it  is  most  unlikely." 

"  I  will  not  trust  anything  I  possess  to  Lord  Neville. 
Nothing  !  " 

"The  man  trusted  by  Cromwell  is  above  suspicion." 

"  It  is  his  interest  to  be  honest  with  Cromwell." 

"  You  are  angry  at  Neville." 

"  I  have  good  reason.  He  is  always  the  bringer  of  bad 
news.  The  order  to  leave  Paris  and  the  Prince  could  have 
come  only  through  him." 

"  The  Prince  knows  how  he  may  keep  you   at  his  side." 

"  Oh !  I  am  weary  of  balancing  things  impossible. 
The  Prince  cannot  marry  like  a  common  man." 

"  Then  he  should  only  make  love  to  such  women  as   are 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  221 

fit  to  marry  with  him.  I  have  said  often  what  I  thought 
right  in  this  affair;  I  have  offered  to  help  it  with  my  gold 
as  far  as  I  can — that  is  all  about  it,  Matilda.  I  say  no 
more." 

"  It  is  enough,"  answered  Lady  Jevery.  "  Matilda  can 
not  wish  to  put  in  danger  your  liberty  or  life." 

"  My  happiness  is  of  less  consequence,  aunt." 

"  Certainly  it  is  ;  "  and  there  was  such  an  air  of  finality 
in  Lady  Jevery's  voice  that  Matilda  rose  and  went  to  her  own 
apartments  to  continue  her  complaints.  This  she  did  with 
passionate  feeling  in  a  letter  to  Prince  Rupert,  in  which 
she  expressed  without  stint  her  hatred  of  Lord  Neville  and 
her  desire  for  his  punishment.  Rupert  was  well  inclined  to 
humour  her  wish.  He  had  seen  the  young  Commonwealth 
messenger,  and  his  handsome  person  and  patrician  manner 
had  given  him  a  moment's  envious  look  back  to  the  days 
when  he  also  had  been  young  and  hopeful,  and  full  of  faith 
in  his  own  great  future.  The  slight  hauteur  of  Neville,  his 
punctilious  care  for  Cromwell's  instructions,  his  whole 
bearing  of  victory,  as  against  his  own  listless  attitude  of 
"  failure,"  set  his  mind  in  a  mood  either  to  ignore  the  young 
man,  or  else  by  the  simplest  word  or  incident  to  change 
from  indifference  to  dislike. 

Matilda's  letter  furnished  the  impetus  to  dislike.  He 
said  to  himself,  "  Neville  showed  more  insolence  and  self- 
approval  in  the  presence  of  his  Eminence  than  I,  after  all 
my  wars  and  adventures,  would  have  presumed  on,  under 
any  circumstances.  He  wants  a  lesson,  and  it  will  please 
Matilda  if  I  give  him  it ;  and  God  knows  there  is  so  little 
I  can  do  to  pleasure  her  !  At  this  point  in  his  reflections, 
he  called  his  equerry  and  bid  him  "  find  out  the  lodgings  of 
Lord  Neville,  and  watch  him  by  day  and  night;"  adding, 
"  Have  my  Barbary  horse  saddled,  and  when  this  English- 


222  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

man  leaves  his  lodging,  bring  me  instant  word  of  the  course 
he  takes." 

The  next  morning  he  spent  with  Matilda.  She  was  in 
tears  and  despair,  and  Rupert  could  do  nothing  but  weep 
and  despair  with  her.  He  indeed  renewed  with  passionate 
affection  his  promise  to  marry  her  as  soon  as  this  was  pos 
sible,  but  the  possibility  did  not  appear  at  hand  to  either  of 
them.  Rupert  certainly  could  have  defied  every  family  and 
caste  tradition,  and  made  the  girl  so  long  faithful  to  him  at 
once  his  wife ;  but  how  were  they  to  live  as  became  his 
rank  ?  For  in  spite  of  popular  suppositions  to  the  con 
trary,  he  was  in  reality  a  poor  man,  and  he  could  not  be 
come  a  pensioner  on  Sir  Thomas  Jevery,  even  if  Sir 
Thomas  had  been  able  to  give  him  an  income  at  all  in 
unison  with  Rupert's  ideas  of  the  splendid  life  due  to  his 
position  and  achievements. 

But  he  had  not  long  to  wait  for  an  opportunity  to  meet 
Neville.  While  he  was  playing  billiards  the  following  after 
noon  with  the  Duke  of  Yorke,  his  equerry  arrived  at  the 
Palais  Royale  with  his  horse.  Neville  had  taken  the 
northern  road  out  of  the  city,  and  it  was  presumably  the 
homeward  road.  Rupert  followed  quickly,  but  Neville  was 
a  swift,  steady  rider,  and  he  was  not  overtaken  till  twenty 
miles  had  been  covered,  and  the  daylight  was  nearly  lost  in 
the  radiance  of  the  full  moon.  Rupert  put  spurs  to  his 
horse,  passed  Neville  at  a  swift  gallop,  then  suddenly 
wheeling,  came  at  a  rush  towards  him,  catching  his  bridle 
as  they  met. 

"  Alight,"  he  said  peremptorily. 

Neville  shook  his  bridle  free,  and  asked, 

"  By  whose  orders  ?  " 

"  Mine." 

"  I  will  not  obey  them." 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  223 

"  You  will  alight.      I  have  a  quarrel  to  settle  with  you." 
"  On  what  ground  ?  " 

O 

"  Say  it  is  on  the  ground  of  your  mistress.  I  am  Earl 
de  Wick's  friend." 

"  I  will  not  fight  on  such  pretense.  My  mistress  would 
deny  me  if  I  did." 

"  Fight  for  your  honour,  then." 

Neville  laughed.       "  I   know  better.     And  before  what 

O 

you  call  Honour,  I  put  Duty." 

"  Then  fight  for  the  papers  and  money  in  your  posses 
sion.  I  want  them." 

"  Ha  !   I  thought  so.     You  are  a  robber,  it  seems.     The 

O  * 

papers  and  gold  are  not  mine,  and  I  will  fight  rather  than 
lose  them.  But  I  warn  you  that  I  am  a  good  swords 
man." 

"  Heaven   and  hell !      What   do   I   care  ?      Alight,  and 

prove  your  boast." 

"  If  you  are  in  such  a  hurry  to  die,  go  and  hang  yourself. 
On  second  thoughts,  I  will  not  fight  a  thief.  I  am  a 
noble,  and  an  honourable  man." 

"  If  you  do  not  alight  at  once,  I  will  slay  your  horse. 
You  shall  fight  me,  here  and  now,  with  or  without  pre 
tense." 

Then  Neville  flung  himself  from  his  horse  and  tied  the 
animal  to  a  tree.  Rupert  did  likewise,  and  the  two  men 
rapidly  removed  such  of  their  garments  as  would  interfere 
with  their  bloody  play.  They  were  in  a  lonely  road,  par 
tially  shaded  with  great  trees  ;  not  a  human  habitation  was 
visible,  and  there  were  no  seconds  to  see  justice  done  in 
the  fight,  or  secure  help  after  it,  if  help  was  needed.  But 
at  this  time  the  lack  of  recognised  formalities  was  no  im 
pediment  to  the  duel.  Rupert  quickly  found  that  he  had 
met  his  match.  Neville  left  him  not  a  moment's  breathing 


224  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

space,  but  never  followed  up  his  attacks ;  until  at  last 
Rupert  called  out  insolently,  "  When  are  you  going  to  kill 
me?" 

The  angry  impatience  of  the  inquiry  probably  induced  a 
moment's  carelessness,  and  Rupert  did  not  notice  that  in 
the  struggle  their  ground  had  insensibly  been  changed,  and 
Neville  now  stood  directly  in  front  of  a  large  tree.  Not 
heeding  the  impediment,  Rupert  made  a  fierce  thrust  with 
the  point  of  his  sword,  which  Neville  evaded  by  a  vault  to 
one  side,  so  that  Rupert's  sword  striking  the  tree,  sprang 
from  his  hand  at  the  impact.  As  it  fell  to  the  ground, 
Neville  reached  it  first,  and  placed  his  foot  upon  it.  Rupert 
stood  still  and  bowed  gravely.  He  was  at  Neville's  mercy, 
and  he  indicated  his  knowledge  of  this  fact  by  the  proud 
stillness  of  his  attitude. 

"  It  was  an  accident,"  said  Neville;  "  and  an  accident  is 
God's  part  in  any  affair.  Take  your  life  from  my  hand. 
I  have  no  will  to  wish  your  death."  He  offered  his  hand 
as  he  spoke,  and  Rupert  took  it  frankly,  answering, 

"  'Tis  no  disgrace  to  take  life  from  one  so  gallant  and 
generous,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  can  repay  the  favour  of 
your  clemency  ;  "  then  he  almost  whispered  in  Cluny's  ear 
three  words,  and  the  young  man  started  visibly,  and  with 
great  haste  untied  his  horse. 

"We  would  better  change  horses,"  said  Rupert;  "mine 
is  a  Barb,  swift  as  the  wind." 

But  Cluny  could  not  make  the  change  proposed  without 
some  delay,  his  papers  and  jewels  being  bestowed  in  his 
saddle  linings.  So  with  a  good  wish  the  two  men  parted, 
and  there  was  no  anger  between  them  ; — admiration  and 
good  will  had  taken  its  place.  Neville  hastened  forward, 
as  he  had  been  advised,  and  Rupert  returned  to  Paris.  He 
knew  Matilda  was  expecting  him,  and  he  pictured  to  him- 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  225 

self  her  disappointment  and  anxiety  at  his  non-appearance  ; 
it  was  also  her  last  evening  in  Paris,  and  it  grieved  him  to 
miss  precious  hours  of  love,  that  might  never  be  given  him 
again.  Yet  he  was  physically  exhausted,  and  as  soon  as  he 
threw  himself  upon  a  couch  he  forgot  all  his  weariness  and 
all  his  anxieties  in  a  deep  sleep. 

Matilda  was  not  so  happy  as  to  find  this  oblivion.  She 
knew  over  what  social  pitfalls  every  man  of  prominence  in 
Paris  walked — in  the  Kind's  favour  one  dav,  in  the  Bastile 

O  j    ' 

the  next  day — and  that  this  very  insecurity  of  all  good  things 
made  men  reckless.  Rupert  might  have  offended  King 
Louis  or  the  great  Cardinal.  She  imagined  a  hundred  causes 
for  flight  or  fight  or  imprisonment ;  she  recalled  one  story 
after  another  of  nobles  and  gentlemen  seen  flourishing  in 
the  presence  of  Louis  one  day  and  then  never  seen  again. 
She  knew  that  plots  and  counterplots,  party  fueds  and  fam 
ily  hatreds,  were  everywhere  rife  ;  and  that  Rupert  was  rash 
and  outspoken,  and  had  many  enemies  among  the  cour 
tiers  of  Louis  and  the  exiled  nobles  of  England,  not  to 

O  ' 

speak  of  the  Commonwealth  spies,  to  whom  he  was  an  ob 
ject  of  superstitious  hatred,  who  regarded  his  blackamoors 
as  familiar  spirits,  and  believed  firmly  that  "  he  had  a  devil," 
and  worked  evil  charms  by  the  devil's  help  and  advice.  And 
above  all,  and  through  these  sad  forebodings,  there  was  the 
ever  present  likelihood  of  a  duel.  Every  man  had  sword  in 
hand,  ready  to  settle  some  terrible  or  trivial  quarrel — thong}) 
it  did  not  require  a  quarrel  to  provoke  the  duel  ;  men  fought 
for  a  word,  for  a  sign,  for  the  colour  of  a  ribbon,  for  noth 
ing  at  all,  for  the  pleasure  of  killing  themselves  to  kill 
time. 

A'latilda  was  keenly  alive  to  all  these  possible  tragedies, 
and  when  her  lover  failed  to  keep  what  was  likc'.v  to  be 
their  last  tryst,  she  was  more  frightened  than  angry  ;  yet 


226  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

when  Rupert  came  at  an  exceptionally  early  hour  in  the 
morning,  and  she  saw  him  safe  and  well,  her  anxiety  became 
flavoured  with  displeasure. 

"  How  could  you  so  cruelly  disappoint  me  ?  "  she  cried, 
"You  see  now  that  our  time  is  nearly  gone  j  in  a  few  hours 
we  must  part,  perhaps  forever." 

"  My  dearest,  loveliest  Mata,  I  was  about  your  pleasure. 
I  was  following  Lord  Neville,  and  he  took  me  further  than 
I  expected.  When  my  business  was  done  with  him,  I  had 
twenty  miles  to  ride  back  to  Paris ;  and  I  confess  to  you,  I 
was  so  weary  that  I  could  only  sleep.  In  your  love,  remem 
ber  how  lately  I  have  been  sick  to  death." 

"Lord  Neville  again  !  The  man  is  an  incubus.  Why 
did  you  follow  him  ?  " 

"  You  wished  me  to  give  him  a  lesson.  He  was  going 
homeward.  I  had  to  ride  last  night,  or  let  him  escape.  By 
my  troth,  I  had  only  your  pleasure  in  mind." 

"  Oh,  but  the  price  paid  was  too  great !  I  had  to  give  up 
your  society  for  hours.  That  is  a  loss  I  shall  mourn  to  the 
end  of  my  life.  I  hope,  then,  that  you  killed  him.  Noth 
ing  less  will  suffice  for  it." 

"  I  was  out  of  fortune,  as  I  always  am.  I  had  an  acci 
dent,  and  was  at  his  mercy.  He  gave  me  my  life." 

"  Now,  indeed,  you  pierce  my  heart.  You  at  his  mercy  ! 
It  is  an  intolerable  shame  !  It  will  make  me  cry  out,  even 
when  I  sleep !  I  shall  die  of  it.  You  !  You !  to  be  at  his 
mercy — at  the  mercy  of  that  Puritan  braggart.  Oh,  I  can 
not  endure  it  !  " 

"You  see  that  I  endure  it  very  complacently,  Mata. 
The  man  behaved  as  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier.  I  have 
even  taken  a  liking  to  him.  I  have  also  paid  back  his  kind 
ness  ;  we  are  quits,  and  as  soldiers,  friends.  It  was  an 
accident,  and  as  Neville  very  piously  said,  '  Accidents  are 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  227 

God's  part  in  an  affair ; '  and  therefore  we  would  not  be 
found  fighting  against  God.  You  know,  Mata,  that  I  have 
been  very  religiously  brought  up.  And  I  can  assure  you  no 
one's  honour  suffered,  mine  least  of  all." 

But  Matilda  was  hard  to  comfort.  Her  last  interview 
with  her  lover  was  saddened  and  troubled  by  this  disagree 
ment;  and  though  both  were  broken-hearted  in  the  mo 
ments  of  farewell,  Matilda,  watching  Rupert  across  the 
Place  Royale,  discovered  in  the  listless  impatience  of  his 
attitude  and  movements,  that  inward  revolt  against  outward 
strife,  which,  if  it  had  found  a  voice,  would  have  ejaculated, 
"  I  am  glad  it  is  over." 

This,  then,  was  the  end  of  the  visit  from  which  she  had 
expected  so  much  ;  and  one  sad  gray  morning  in  November 
they  reached  London.  Sir  Thomas  was  like  a  man  re 
leased  from  a  spell,  and  he  went  about  his  house  and  garden 
in  a  mood  so  happy  that  it  was  like  a  psalm  of  gratitude  to 
be  with  him.  Lady  Jevery  was  equally  pleased,  though  less 
ready  to  show  her  pleasure ;  but  to  Matilda,  life  appeared 
without  hope — a  state  of  simple  endurance,  for  she  had  no 
vital  expectation  that  the  morrow,  or  any  other  morrow, 
would  bring  her  happiness. 

The  apparently  fateful  interference  of  Neville  in  her 
affairs  made  her  miserable.  She  thought  him  her  evil  gen 
ius,  the  bearer  of  bad  news,  the  bringer  of  sorrow.  She 
felt  Rupert's  "  accident  "  as  part  of  the  bad  fate.  She  had 
been  taught  fencing,  and  Cymlin  Swarf  ham  had  often  de 
clared  her  a  match  for  any  swordsman,  so  that  she  knew, 
as  well  as  Rupert  knew,  no  honour  had  been  lost  between 
him  and  Neville.  But  the  "accident  "  touched  her  deeper 
than  this  :  she  regarded  it  as  a  proof  that  the  stars  were 
still  against  her  good  fortune,  separating  her  from  her  lover, 
influencing  Neville  and  his  party  for  victory,  and  dooming 


228  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

the  King  and  his  party  to  defeat  in  all  their  relationships, 
private  and  national. 

She  said  to  herself  in  the  first  hours  of  her  return  that 
she  would  not  see  Jane,  but  as  the  day  wore  on  she 
changed  her  mind.  She  wished  to  write  Rupert  every  par 
ticular  about  national  events,  and  she  could  best  feel  the 
Puritan  pulse  through  Jane ;  while  from  no  one  else  could 
she  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the  household  doings  of  Crom 
well  and  his  family.  Then,  also,  she  wished  Jane  to  see 
her  new  dresses,  and  to  hear  of  the  great  and  famous  peo 
ple  she  had  been  living  among.  What  was  the  use  of  be 
ing  familiar  with  princesses,  if  there  was  no  one  to  talk  to 
about  them  ?  And  Matilda  had  so  much  to  say  concerning 
the  ex-Queen  of  Bohemia  and  her  clever  daughters,  that 
she  could  not  deny  herself  the  society  of  Jane  as  a  listener. 

So  she  wrote  and  asked  her  to  come,  and  Jane  answered 
the  request  in  person,  at  once.  This  hurry  of  welcome 
was  a  little  malapropos.  Matilda  had  not  assumed  the 
dress  and  style  she  had  intended,  and  the  litter  of  fine  cloth 
ing  about  her  rooms,  and  the  partially  unpacked  boxes,  gave 
to  her  surroundings  an  undignified  and  unimpressive  char 
acter.  But  friendship  gives  up  its  forms  tardily  ;  people 
kiss  each  other  and  say  fond  words  long  after  the  love  that 
ought  to  vitalise  such  symbols  is  dead  and  buried ;  and  for 
awhile  the  two  girls  did  believe  themselves  glad  to  meet 
again.  There  were  a  score  of  things  delightful  to  women 
over  which  they  could  agree,  and  Jane's  admiration  for  her 
friend's  beautiful  gowns  and  laces  and  jewels,  and  her  in 
terest  in  Matilda's  descriptions  of  the  circumstances  in 
which  they  were  worn,  was  so  genuine,  that  Matilda  had 
forgotten  her  relation  to  Lord  Neville,  when  the  irritating 
name  was  mentioned. 

u  Did  you  see  Lord  Neville  in  Paris  ?  "  Jane  asked ;  and 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  22.9 

there  was  a  wistful  anxiety  in  her  voice  to  which  Matilda 
ought  to  have  responded.  But  the  question  came  when 
she  was  tired  even  of  her  own  splendours  and  successes  ; 
she  had  talked  herself  out,  and  was  not  inclined  to  continue 
conversation  if  the  subject  of  it  was  to  be  one  so  disagree 
able.  "  No,"  she  answered  sharply.  "  I  did  not  see  him. 
He  called  one  day,  and  had  a  long  talk  with  Sir  Thomas, 
but  aunt  had  a  headache,  and  I  had  more  delightful  com 
pany." 

"  I  thought  for  my  sake  you  would  see  him.  Did  you 
hear  anything  of  his  affairs  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  heard  he  gave  great  offense  to  Cardinal  Maza- 
rin  by  his  authoritative  manner." 

"  bb ! " 

"  You  know,  Jane,  that  he  has  a  most  presuming, 
haughty  way  ?  He  has  !  " 

"  I  am  sure  he  has  not,  Matilda." 

"  Every  one  wondered  at  Cromwell  sending  a  mere  boy 
on  such  delicate  and  important  business.  It  was  consid 
ered  almost  an  insult  to  Mazarin." 

"  How  can  you  say  such  things,  Matilda  ?  The  business 
was  neither  delicate  nor  important.  It  was  merely  to  de 
liver  a  parcel  to  Mazarin.  Cluny  was  not  charged  with 
any  explanations,  and  I  am  sure  he  took  nothing  on  him 
self." 

"  I  only  repeat  what  I  heard — that  he  carried  himself  as 
if  he  were  a  young  Atlas,  and  had  England's  fate  and  honour 
on  his  shoulders." 

"  You  can  surely  also  repeat  something  pleasant.  Did 
you  hear  of  him  at  the  minister's,  or  elsewhere  ?  He  is  not 
one  to  pass  through  a  room  and  nobody  see  him." 

"  I  heard  nothing  about  him  but  what  I  have  told  you. 
He  prevented  my  seeing  the  Queen  of  Bohemia  on  my  re- 


230  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

turn,  because  he  offered  to  attend  to  my  uncle's  business  at 
The  Hague  for  him ;  and  for  this  interference  I  do  not 
thank  Lord  Neville." 

"  Nor  I,"  answered  Jane.  "  Had  he  not  gone  to  The 
Hague  he  might  have  been  in  London  by  this  time." 
Then  wishing  to  avoid  all  unpleasantness,  she  said,  "  To  be 
sure  it  is  no  wonder  you  forgot  me  and  my  affairs.  You 
have  been  living  a  fairy  tale,  Matilda ;  and  the  fairy  prince 
has  been  living  it  with  you.  How  charming  !  " 

Matilda  was  instantly  pleased,  her  voice  became  melodi 
ous,  her  face  smiling  and  tender.  "  Yes,"  she  answered, 
u  a  fairy  tale,  and  my  prince  was  so  splendid,  so  famous,  so 
adored,  kings,  cardinals,  great  men  of  all  kinds,  and  the 
loveliest  women  in  France  sought  him,  but  he  left  all  to  sit 
at  my  side;"  and  then  the  girls  sat  down,  hand  in  hand, 
and  Matilda  told  again  her  tale  of  love,  till  they  were  both 
near  to  weeping.  This  sympathy  made  Matilda  remember 
more  kindly  Jane's  dreams  and  hopes  concerning  her  own 
love  affair,  and  though  she  hated  Neville,  she  put  aside  the 
ill  feeling  and  asked,  "  Pray  now,  Jane,  what  about  your 
marriage  ?  Does  it  stand,  like  mine,  under  unwilling 
stars  ? " 

"  No.  I  am  almost  sure  my  father  has  changed  his 
mind ;  perhaps  the  Lord  General  has  helped  him  to  do  so, 
for  no  man,  or  woman  either,  takes  such  sweet  interest  in  a 
true  love  affair.  He  is  always  for  making  lovers  happy, 
whether  they  be  his  own  sons  and  daughters  or  those  of  his 
friends;  and  he  likes  Cluny  so  much  that  when  he  returns  he 
is  to  have  a  command  at  Edinburgh.  And  I  can  see  father 
and  mother  have  been  talking  about  our  marriage.  One 
morning,  lately,  mother  showed  me  the  fine  damask  and 
house  linen  she  is  going  to  give  me,  and  another  morning 
she  looked  at  my  sewing  and  said,  '  I  might  as  well  hurry 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  231 

a  little;  things  might  happen  sooner  than  I  thought  for;' 
and  then  she  kissed  me,  and  that  is  what  mother  doesn't 
often  do,  out  of  time  and  season." 

jane  had  risen  as  she  said  these  words,  and  was  tyinjj;  on 

*J  j  O 

her  bonnet,  and  Matilda  watched  her  with  a  curious  inter 
est.  "  I  was  wondering,"  she  said  slowly,  "  if  you  will  be 
glad  to  marry  Cluny  Neville  and  go  away  to  Scotland  with 
him." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Jane  answered,  her  eyes  shining,  her  mouth 
wreathed  in  smiles,  her  whole  being  expressing  her  delight 
in  such  an  anticipation.  Matilda  made  no  further  remark, 
but  when  Jane  had  closed  the  door  behind  her,  she  sat  down 
thoughtfully  by  the  tire,  and  stirring  together  the  red  em 
bers,  sighed  rather  than  said  — 

u  Whv  do  people  marry  and  bring  up  sons  and  daugh 
ters  ?  This  girl  has  been  loved  to  the  uttermost  by  her 
father  and  mother  and  brothers,  and  she  will  gladly  leave 
them  all  to  go  off  with  this  young  Scot.  She  will  call  it 
1  Sacrifice  for  Love's  sake  ; '  I  call  it  pure  selfishness.  Yet 
I  am  not  a  whit  whiter  than  she.  I  would  have  stayed  in 
Paris  with  Rupert,  though  my  good  uncle  was  in  danger. 
How  dreadful  it  is  to  look  into  one's  own  soul,  and  make 
one's  self  tell  it  the  honest  truth.  I  think  I  will  go  to  my 
evening  service;  "  and  as  she  rose  for  her  Common  Prayer, 
she  was  saying  under  her  breath,  "We  have  left  undone 
those  things  which  we  ought  to  have  done,  and  we  have 
done  those  things  which  we  ought  not  to  have  done.  And 
there  is  no  health  in  us." 

Lady  Jevery  had  a  dinner  party  that  night,  and  Matilda 
went  down  to  it  in  considerable  splendour.  Doctor  Hewitt 
was  present,  and  Mr.  Waller,  the  poet,  and  Den/,il  Hollis, 
and  the  witty,  delightful  Henry  Marten,  and  Matilda's  great 
favourite,  the  little  royalist  linen  draper,  Izaak  Walton, 


232  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

whose  Complete  Angler  had  just  been  published.  He  had 
brought  Sir  Thomas  a  copy  of  it,  and  Matilda  found  out  at 
once  the  song,  u  Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  love."  Her 
praises  were  very  pleasant  to  the  old  man,  who  had  hid 
Donne  and  Hooker  and  Herbert  in  his  Inner  Chamber 
during  the  days  of  the  Long  Parliament;  who  had  been  the 
friend  of  bishops  Ken  and  Sanderson,  and  of  archbishops 
Usher  and  Sheldon  ;  and  who,  born  in  Elizabeth's  reign, 
had  lived  to  see  "  Sceptre  and  Crown  tumbled  down." 

u  But  you  are  not  the  only  author  of  Great  Oliver's 
reign,"  she  said  with  a  whimsical  smile.  "  This  day  Mis 
tress  Dorothy  Osborne  sent  me  a  copy  of  the  poems  of  my 
Lady  Newcastle.  She  has  been  making  herself  still  more 
absurd  than  she  is  by  writing  a  book — and  in  verse.  'Sure,' 
said  Mistress  Dorothy  to  me,  '  if  I  did  not  sleep  for  a 
month,  I  should  never  come  to  that  point.'  Why  does  her 
husband  let  her  run  loose  ?  I  vow  there  are  soberer  people 
in  Bedlam." 

41  Her  husband  adores  her;  he  believes  her  to  be  a 
prodigy  of  learning." 

"  They  are  a  couple  of  fools  well  met.  I  am  sorry  for 
them.  She  dashes  at  everything,  and  he  goes  about  trum 
peting  her  praises.  Come,  sir,  I  hear  the  company  tossing 
Cromwell's  name  about.  Let  us  join  the  combatants ;  I 
wish  to  be  in  the  fray." 

The  fact  was  Sir  Thomas  had  asked  after  political  affairs 
since  he  left  England  in  April,  and  there  was  plenty  of  ma 
terial  for  discussion.  Denzil  Hollis  was  describing  the 
opening  of  the  Parliament  summoned  by  Cromwell,  and 
which  met  on  the  fourth  of  July.  "  He  made  to  this  Par 
liament,"  he  said,  "  a  wonderful  speech.  He  declared  that 
he  'did  not  want  supreme  power,  no,  not  for  a  day,  but  to 
put  it  into  the  hands  of  proper  persons  elected  by  the  peo- 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  233 

pic.'  And  he  bid  them  'be  humble  and  not  consider 
themselves  too  much  of  a  Parliament.'  And  then  he  burst 
into  such  a  strain  as  none  ever  heard,  taking  texts  from 
psalms,  and  prophets  and  epistles,  mingled  with  homely 
counsels,  and  entreaties  to  them  to  do  their  duty — speaking 
till  the  words  fell  red  hot  from  his  lips,  so  that  when  he 
ended  with  the  psalm  on  Dunbar  field  we  were  all  ready  to 
sing  it  with  him  ;  for  as  he  told  us,  with  a  shining  face,  '  the 
triumph  of  the  psalm  is  exceeding  high  and  great,  and  God 
is  now  accomplishing  it.'  ' 

"  No  English  Parliament  was  ever  opened  like  that,"  said 
Sir  Thomas.  u  Has  it  done  anything  yet?  " 

"  It  has  done  too  much.  It  has  committees  at  work 
looking  into  the  affairs  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  the  navy, 
the  armv  and  the  law.  They  have  been  through  the  jails, 
and  set  three  hundred  poor  debtors  free  in  London  alone. 
They  have  abolished  titles  and  the  Court  of  Chancery ;  and 
the  last  two  acts  have  made  the  nation  very  uneasy.  Upon 
my  honour,  the  people  are  more  unhappy  at  getting  rid  of 
their  wrongs  than  you  would  credit." 

"  Englishmen  like  something  to  grumble  about,"  said 
Mr.  Walton.  "  If  the  Commonwealth  leaves  them  with 
out  a  grievance,  it  will  doom  itself." 

"  That  is  not  it,  Mr.  Walton,"  said  Henry  Marten  ; 
"  Englishmen  don't  like  the  foundations  destroyed  in  order 
to  repair  the  house.  Going  over  precipices  is  not  maki no- 
progress.  You  may  take  it  for  an  axiom  that  as  a  people, 
we  prefer  abuses  to  novelties." 

"The  reign  of  the  saints  is  now  begun,"  said  Doctor 
Hewitt  scornfully  ;  "  and  Sir  Harry  Vane  is  afraid  of  what 
he  has  prayed  for.  He  has  gone  into  retirement,  and  sent 
Cromwell  word  he  would  wait  for  his  place  until  he  got  to 
heaven." 


234  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  Sir  Harry  is  not  one  of  Zebedee's  sons." 

"  This  Parliament  is  going  too  fast." 

"They  have  no  precedents  to  hamper  them." 

"  Everything  old  is  in  danger  of  being  abolished." 

"  They  talk  of  reducing  all  taxation  to  one  assessment 
on  land  and  property.  Absurd  !  " 

"  Some  say  they  will  burn  the  records  in  the  Tower;  and 
the  law  of  Moses  is  to  take  the  place  of  the  law  of  England." 

"  And  the  Jews  are  to  have  civil  rights." 

"  And  after  that  we  may  have  a  Jewish  Sanhedrim  in 
place  of  a  Puritan  Parliament." 

"  The  good  people  of  England  will  never  bear  such  in 
novations,"  said  Sir  Thomas  with  great  indignation. 

"  None  of  us  know  how  much  the  good  people  of  Eng 
land  will  bear,"  answered  Hollis. 

"  And  pray  what  part  does  Cromwell  take  in  these 
changes  ?  Surely  he  is  the  leader  of  them  ?  "  asked  Lady 
Jevery. 

"  He  takes  no  part  in  them,  madame,"  answered  Walton ; 
"gives  no  advice,  uses  no  authority." 

"  Oh,  indeed  he  is  just  waiting  till  his  Assembly  of  Saints 
have  made  themselves  beyond  further  bearing,"  said  Ma 
tilda.  "  Then  he  will  arise  to  the  rescue,  and  serve  them 
as  he  did  the  last  Parliament." 

"  And  then,  Lady  Matilda,  what  then  ?  "  asked  Doctor 
Hewitt. 

"  He  will  make  himself  Emperor  of  these  Isles." 

"  I  do  not  think  he  has  any  such  intent ;  no,  not  for  an 
hour,"  said  Sir  Thomas. 

There  was  a  cynical  laugh  at  this  opinion,  and  Matilda's 
opinion  was,  in  the  main,  not  only  endorsed,  but  firmly  be 
lieved.  Many  could  not  understand  why  he  had  waited  so 
long.  "  When  he  sheathed  his  sword  at  Worcester  he 


RUPERT  AND  CLUNY  235 

could  have  lifted  the  sceptre,  and  the  whole  nation  would 
have  shouted  gratefully,  '  God  save  King  Oliver,'  "  said  Sir 
Thomas.  "  Why  did  he  not  do  so,  I  wonder  r  " 

But  if  the  spiritual  eyes  of  these  men  had  been  suddenly 
opened,  as  were  those  of  Elisha,  they  might  have  seen 
that  hour  the  man  Cromwell,  as  God  saw  him,  and 
acknowledged  with  shame  and  blame  their  ready  injustice. 
For  even  while  they  were  condemning  him,  accusing  him  of 
unbounded  ambition  and  unbounded  hypocrisy,  he  was 
kneeling  by  the  side  of  a  very  old  woman,  praying.  One 
of  her  small,  shriveled  hands  was  clasped  between  his  large 
brown  palms,  and  his  voice,  low,  but  intensely  deep  and 
earnest,  filled  the  room  with  that  unmistakable  pathetic 
monotone,  which  is  the  natural  voice  of  a  soul  pleading 
with  its  God.  It  rose  and  fell,  it  was  full  of  tears  and  of 
triumph,  it  was  sorrowful  and  imploring,  it  was  the  very  sob 
of  a  soul  wounded  and  loving,  but  crying  out,  "  Though 
He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him."  When  he  rose,  his 
face  was  wet  with  tears,  but  the  aged  woman  had  the  light 
of  heaven  on  her  calm  brow.  She  rose  with  him,  and 
leaning  on  the  top  of  her  ivory  staff,  said, 

"  Oliver,  my  son  Oliver,  have  no  fear.  Man  nor  woman 
shall  have  power  to  hurt  thee.  Until  thy  work  is  done, 
thou  shalt  not  see  death;  and  when  it  is  done,  the  finger  of 
God  will  beckon  thee.  Though  an  host  should  rise  up 
against  thee,  thou  wilt  live  thy  day  and  do  thy  work." 

"  My  mother !  My  good  mother  !  God's  best  gift  to 
me  and  mine." 

"  The  Lord  bless  thee,  Oliver,  and  keep  thee. 
The  Lord  make  His  face  to  shine  upon  thee, 
And  be  gracious  unto  thee. 
The  Lord  lift  up  His  countenance  upon  thee, 
And  give  thee  peace." 


236  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Then  Oliver  kissed  his  mother  tenderly,  and  went  out 
from  her  presence  with  the  joy  of  one  whom  "  his  mother 
comforteth."  And  his  face  was  bright  and  lifted  up,  and 
his  footsteps  firm;  and  he  carried  himself  like  a  man  whose 
soul  had  been  "ministered  unto."  And  if  the  envious 
doubters  at  Sir  Thomas  Jevery's  had  seen  him  at  that 
moment,  they  must  have  instantly  taken  knowledge  of  him 
that  he  had  been  with  God.  All  his  fears  were  gone,  all 
his  troubles  lighter  than  a  grasshopper ;  in  some  blessed 
way  there  had  come  to  him  the  knowledge  that  even 

"  Envy's  harsh  berries,  and  the  chocking  pool, 
Of  the  world's  scorn  and  hatred,  are  the  right  mother  milk 
To  the  true,  tough  hearts  that  pioneer  their  kind." 


BOOK  III 

Oliver  The  Conqueror 


CHAPTER  XI 

OLIVER  PROTECTOR 

"  O  heart  heroic,  England's  noblest  son  ! 
At  what  a  height  thy  shining  spirit  burns 
Starlike,  and  floods  our  souls  with  quickening  fire." 

"  Fearful  commenting  is 
The  leaden  servitor  to  dull  delay." 

THE  popular  discontent  with  the  rapid  and  radical  re 
forms  of  the  saints'  Parliament  was  not  confined  to  the 
Royalists  ;  the  nation,  without  regard  to  party,  was  bitterly 
incensed  and  alarmed.  Cromwell  was  no  exception  ;  the 
most  conservative  of  men,  he  also  grew  angry  and  restless 
when  he  saw  the  reign  of  the  saints  beginning  in  earnest. 

"  These  godly  men  are  going  straight  to  the  confusion  of 
all  things,"  he  said  to  Israel  SwafFham  ;  "  they  forget  they 
are  assembled  here  by  the  people,  and  are  assuming  a  direct 
power  from  the  Lord.  If  we  let  them,  they  will  bring  us 
under  the  horridest  arbitrariness  in  the  world." 

There  was  reason  enough  for  this  fear.  Not  content 
with  the  changes  in  government,  religion  and  law,  Feake 
and  Powell  were  urging  social  changes  that  would  level 
all  ranks  and  classes  to  an  equality,  and  Cromwell  abomi 
nated  such  ideas.  Of  equality,  as  we  understand  the  word, 
he  had  no  conception.  He  told  the  members  plainly  that 
England  had  known  for  hundreds  of  years,  ranks  and 
orders  of  men — nobles,  gentlemen,  yoemen — and  that  such 

239 


240  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

ranks  were  a  good  interest  to  the  nation,  and  a  great  one. 
"What  is  the  purport,"  he  asked,  "  to  make  the  tenant  as 
liberal  a  fortune  as  the  landlord  ?  If  obtained,  it  would  not 
last ;  the  men  of  that  principle,  after  they  had  served  their 
own  turns,  would  have  cried  up  property  fast  enough." 

To  the  Fifth  Monarchy  men  who  held  that  the  saints 
alone  should  rule  the  earth,  he  gave  the  sternest  rebuke, 
telling  them  plainly  that  the  carnal  divisions  among  them 
were  not  symptoms  of  Christ's  Kingdom.  "  Truly,"  he 
added,  "you  will  need  to 'give  clearer  manifestations  of 
God's  presence  among  you  before  wise  men  will  submit  to 
your  conclusions." 

In  the  meantime  the  anger  outside  the  Parliament  House 
rose  to  fury.  Doubtless  Cromwell  had  foreseen  this  crisis. 
Certainly  a  large  number  of  the  members  were  of  his  way 
of  thinking,  and  on  the  twelfth  of  December,  Colonel 
Sydenham  rose,  and  accusing  the  members  of  wishing  to 
put  a  Mosaic  code  in  place  of  the  Common  Law  of 
England — of  depreciating  a  regular  ministry  (for  what 
need  of  one,  if  all  men  could  prophesy  ?)  and  of  opposing 
learning  and  education,  he  declared  the  salvation  of  the 
nation  lay  in  resigning  the  trust  committed  to  them  into 
the  hands  of  the  Lord  General  Cromwell.  The  motion 
was  seconded  by  Sir  Charles  Wolseley.  The  Speaker  left 
the  chair,  and  followed  by  a  majority  of  the  members,  went 
to  Whitehall,  and  there  and  then  they  wrote  out  their  res 
ignation.  It  was  said  that  "  Cromwell  looked  astonished, 
and  only  received  the  paper  upon  great  importunity."  And 
if  ever  Cromwell  drolled  in  his  life,  he  drolled  then,  for  it 
is  not  likely  this  movement  was  unforeseen  ;  all  its  details 
had  been  too  ably  arranged  to  be  the  result  of  unanticipated 
action. 

No  serious  opposition  was  made.     Some  thirty  of  the 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  241 

members  remained  in  the  House  "  to  protest,"  but  Colonel 
Goff  entering  with  a  hie  of  musketeers,  the  argument  was 
quickly  closed.  "What  are  you  doing  here  ?"  asked  the 
Colonel,  and  some  one  answered,  "  We  are  seeking  the 
Lord,"  then  said  he,  "  You  may  go  elsewhere,  for  to  my 
certain  knowledge  the  Lord  has  not  been  here  these  many 
years."  Three  days  after  this  event  a  new  Council  of 
State  resolved  that  his  Excellency  be  chosen  LORD  PRO 
TECTOR  of  the  three  nations,  and  on  the  sixteenth  of  De 
cember  be  so  installed  in  Westminster  Hall. 

"  And  you  would  think  that  he  had  been  publicly 
scorned  instead  of  publicly  chosen,"  said  Israel  to  his  wife. 
u  He  looks  miserable;  he  is  silent  and  downcast,  and  talks 
much  to  himself.  Yet  he  is  in  his  right  place,  and  the 
only  man  in  England  who  can  save  us  from  anarchy." 

u  God  knows.  It  is  a  place  of  great  honour  for  Mr. 
Oliver  Cromwell  of  Slepe  House." 

"  Xo,  no.  'Tis  a  place  of  great  danger,  a  place  of 
terror  and  forlorn  hope.  God  knows,  I  would  not  have  it 
for  all  the  honour  and  gold  in  England.  Martha,  his 
Excellency  and  her  Highness  desire  your  company,  and 
that  of  Jane,  to  the  ceremony.  You  will  go  ?  " 

u  I  had  better  stay  at  home,  Israel.  I  cannot  '  Your 
Highness  '  Elizabeth  Cromwell.  Jane  will  go." 

"  And  you,  too,  Alartha.      I  wish  it." 

"I  never  go  against  your  wishes,  Israel — at  least  not 
often." 

So  it  happened  that  on  the  sixteenth  of  December,  Mrs. 
Swaffham  and  Jane  were  dressing  for  Whitehall.  Mrs. 
SwafFham  was  nervous  and  irritable  ;  nervous,  because  she 
feared  her  gown  was  not  as  handsome  as  it  ought  to  be  ; 
irritable,  because  she  felt  that  circumstances  were  going  to 
control  her  behaviour,  whether  she  approved  or  not.  Jane 


242  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

was  unable  to  encourage  or  cheer  her  mother;  she  was  her 
self  the  most  unhappy  maiden  in  London  that  day.  She 
was  white  as  the  satin  robe  that  clothed  her,  and  her  eyes 
held  in  their  depths  the  shadow  of  that  fear  and  grief  which 
filled  her  heart.  And  though  her  mother  was  sorry  for  her 
distress,  she  was  vexed  that  her  girl  could  not  better  hide 
her  trouble.  u  I  hate  to  be  pitied,  Jane,"  she  said,  "  and 
above  all  by  'her  Highness.'  And  those  Cromwell  girls, 
they  too  will  be  crying  '  Oh  dear  me  !  '  and  '  Poor  Jane ! ' 
and  you  will  be  a  sweet  sadness  to  spice  their  own  glory 
and  happiness.  Keep  a  brave  heart,  my  girl.  Something 
may  happen  any  hour." 

Jane  did  not  answer.  She  could  not  talk  ;  she  needed 
all  her  strength  to  live.  For  eighteen  days  she  had  been 
forced  to  accept  the  fact  that  Cluny  was  at  least  eighteen 
days  behind  all  probable  and  improbable  delays.  She  had 
not  received  a  line  from  him  since  he  left  Paris ;  no  one 
had.  He  had  apparently  vanished  as  completely  as  a  stone 
dropped  into  mid-ocean.  She  had  been  often  at  Jevery 
House,  and  during  two  of  her  visits  had  managed  to  see 
Sir  Thomas  and  ask  "  if  he  had  any  intelligence  from  Lord 
Neville  ?  "  On  her  first  inquiry  he  answered  her  anx 
iously  ;  on  his  second  his  reply  showed  some  anger. 

"  He  offered  voluntarily  to  take  charge  of  Lady  Jevery's 
jewels  and  to  collect  my  money  at  The  Hague ;  and  unless 
he  was  certain  of  his  ability  to  do  these  things  safely,  he 
ought  not  to  have  sought  the  charge." 

And  with  these  words  there  entered  into  Jane's  heart  a 
suspicion  that  hurt  her  like  a  sword-thrust.  She  found 
herself  saying  continually,  "  It  is  impossible  !  impossible  ! 
Oh,  my  God,  where  is  he  ?  " 

All  this  time  London  was  angry,  anxious,  almost  tu 
multuous.  Jane  would  have  gone  to  Cromwell  for  help — 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  243 

indeed  she  did  go  once  to  Whitehall  with  this  object  in 
view — but  she  was  told  that  he  was  in  his  own  apartments 
silent  and  sad,  and  carrying  a  weight  of  responsibility  that 
might  have  appalled  the  stoutest  heart.  Indeed,  the  whole 
family  were  quiet  and  preoccupied,  and  she  came  away 
without  finding  any  fit  opportunity  to  say  a  word  about 
Cluny  and  his  unaccountable  delay.  There  was  no  one 
else  to  go  to.  Doctor  Verity  was  visiting  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Baxter  at  Kidderminster,  and  Matilda  hated  Cluny.  Jane 
could  not  bear  to  suggest  to  Matilda  a  doubt  as  to  Cluny's 
return.  Certainly  Mrs.  SwafFham  listened  to  her  daugh 
ter's  fears  and  anxieties,  but  Jane  felt  that  the  Parliament 
and  its  doings  and  misdoings,  and  the  speculations  con- 
cernino-  Cromwell,  were  the  great  and  vital  interest  filling 
every  heart.  No  one  seemed  to  care  about  Lord  Neville 
as  she  thought  they  ought  to.  So  far,  then,  she  had  borne 
her  sorrow  alone,  and  it  had  never  left  her  a  moment  for 
eighteen  days  and  nights.  Even  in  her  sleep  she  wandered 
wretchedly  looking  for  him  ;  her  pillows  were  full  of  evil 
forebodings,  and  the  atmosphere  of  her  room  was  heavy 
with  the  misery  of  her  thoughts. 

Fortunately  the  Cromwells  had  no  idea  that  Jane  was  in 
trouble  ;  they  were,  as  was  right  and  natural,  very  much 
excited  over  the  ceremony  of  the  day  and  the  order  in 
which  it  was  to  be  carried  out.  His  Excellency  was  with 
a  number  of  his  officers  in  a  separate  apartment,  but  ma- 
dame,  the  General's  mother,  was  in  the  large  parlour  of  the 
Cockpit,  and  when  the  Swaffhams  entered,  she  rose  with 
delight  to  meet  her  old  neighbours  and  friends.  In  spite 
of  her  great  age  she  looked  almost  handsome  in  a  robe  of 
black  velvet  and  silver  trimmings,  with  a  shawl-like  drapery 
of  rich  white  lace.  In  a  short  time  her  daughter-in-law 
and  her  grandchildren  entered,  and  A'lrs.  SwafFham  looked 


244  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

curiously  at  her  old  friend.  Was  this  indeed  the  Elizabeth 
Cromwell  she  had  gossiped  with  and  sometimes  quarreled 
with  ?  this  stately  woman  in  purple  velvet,  with  large 
pearls  round  her  throat  and  falling  in  priceless  beauty 
below  her  waist  ?  There  could  be  no  doubt  of  her 
identity,  for  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Swaffham  began  to  approach 
her,  she  came  forward,  saying  in  a  tone  of  real  pleasure, 

"  Martha  !  Martha  !  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you  !  "  and 
the  two  women  broke  into  smiles  and  exclamations,  and 
then  kissed  each  other. 

There  was  no  time  to  spare.  The  Lord  General,  dressed 
in  a  rich  suit  of  black  velvet,  appeared,  and  the  procession 
was  formed.  The  Commissioners  of  the  Great  Seal,  the 
Judges  and  Barons  of  the  Exchequer  in  all  the  splendour  of 
their  insignia,  preceded  it.  Then  came  the  Council  of 
State  and  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen  in  their  scarlet 
robes.  Cromwell  followed.  He  was  alone  in  a  magnifi 
cent  coach  with  outriders,  but  he  was  attended  by  the  chief 
officers  of  the  army,  and  by  an  imposing  military  escort. 
His  family  and  friends  in  conveyances  of  equal  splendour 
were  behind,  and  were  also  attended  by  a  military  guard  of 
honour. 

"  Is  it  a  dream,  Jane  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Swaffham  to  her 
daughter.  "  Am  I  asleep  or  awake  ?  Are  these  the  very 
Cromwells  we  used  to  know  ?  Did  you  see  that  little  chit, 
Frank,  whom  I  have  birched  and  stood  in  the  corner,  and 
scolded  more  times  than  I  can  remember  ? — did  you  see  her  ? 
Did  you  see  her  curtsying  to  her  mother  and  calling  her, 
'  Your  Highness'  ?  and  Mary  Cromwell  giving  orders  like 
a  very  Queen  ?  and  even  Elizabeth  Claypole  looking  as  if 
England  belonged  to  them  ?  After  this,  Jane,  nothing  can 
astonish  me." 

Jane    was    as    silent   as    her   mother  was  garrulous;  the 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  245 

crowds,  the  excitement,  the  poignant  crash  and  lare  of 
martial  music,  the  shining  and  clashing  of  steel,  the  waving 
of  flap-s,  the  shouts  and  huzzas  of  the  multitudes,  the  rino;- 

O     '  '  O 

ing  of  innumerable  bells,  the  overpowering  sense  of  the 
brotherhood  of  humanity  in  a  mass  animated  by  the  same 
feeling,  these  things  thrilled  and  filled  souls  until  they  were 
without  words,  or  else  foolishly  eloquent. 

A  place  of  honour  had  been  reserved  for  the  Cromwell 
party,  and  the  great  General's  mother  found  a  throne-like 
chair  placed  for  her  in  such  a  position  that  she  could  see 
every  movement  and  hear  every  word  of  that  august  cere 
mony  which  was  to  acknowledge  her  son  "  the  greatest  man 
in  England."  And  as  she  sat  there,  watching  him  stand 
uncovered  beside  the  Chair  of  State,  and  listened  to  him 
taking  the  solemn  oath  to  rule  England,  Scotland  and  Ire 
land  justly,  she  thought  of  this  battle-scarred  man  as  a  baby 
at  her  breast,  fifty-four  years  before,  pressing  her  bosom 
with  his  tiny  fingers,  and  smiling  up  in  her  face,  happily 
unconscious  of  the  travail  of  body  and  soul  he  was  to  un 
dergo  for  the  sake  of  England,  and  of  all  future  free  peo 
ples.  And  she  thought  also  of  one  cold  winter  day,  when, 
a  lad  of  twelve,  he  had  come  in  from  his  lessons  and  his 
rough  play  at  football  and  thrown  himself  upon  his  bed, 
weary  with  the  buffeting;  and  as  he  lay  there,  wide-awake 
in  the  broad  daylight,  how  he  had  seen  his  angel  stand  at 
his  feet,  and  heard  him  say,  '•'•Thou  sbalt  be  the  greatest  man 
in  England."  And  there  in  her  sight  and  hearing,  the 
prophecy  was  fulfilled  that  day,  for  she  had  never  doubted 
it.  The  boy  had  been  scolded  and  flogged  for  persisting  in 
this  story,  but  she  had  comforted  him  and  always  known 
that  it  was  a  vision  to.  be  realised. 

Her  faith  had  its  reward.  She  watched  this  boy  of  hers 
put  on  his  hat,  after  taking  the  oath,  and  with  a  kingly  air 


246  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

ascend  to  what  was  virtually  the  throne  of  England.  She 
saw  him  unbuckle  his  sword  and  put  it  off,  to  signify  that 
military  rule  was  ended  ;  and  then  she  heard,  amid  the  blare 
of  trumpets,  the  Heralds  proclaim  him  Lord  Protector  of 
England^  Scotland  and  Ireland.  Her  lips  moved  not,  but  she 
heard  her  soul  singing  psalms  of  glory  and  thanksgiving ; 
yes,  she  heard  the  music  within  rising  and  swelling  to 
great  anthems  of  rejoicing.  Her  body  was  impotent  to  ex 
press  this  wonderful  joy ;  it  was  her  soul  that  made  her 
boast  in  the  Lord,  that  magnified  the  God  of  her  salvation. 
And  she  really  heard  its  glad  music  with  her  natural  body, 
and  the  melody  of  that  everlasting  chime  was  in  her  heart 
to  the  last  moment  of  her  life.  And  her  children  looked  at 
her  and  were  amazed,  for  her  face  was  changed ;  and  when 
the  people  shouted,  "  God  save  the  Lord  Protector  of  the  Com 
monwealth  !  "  she  stood  up  without  her  staff,  and  was  the 
first  to  render  him  obeisance. 

Jane  watched  her  with  wonder  and  delight ;  she  forgot 
her  own  grief  in  this  aged  mother's  surpassing  happiness, 
and  she  partly  understood  that  hour  the  new  doctrine  of  the 
men  called  Quakers.  For  she  had  watched  this  Inner  sight 
of  Life  transfuse  the  frail  frame,  and  seen  it  illuminate  the 
withered  face  and  strengthen  the  trembling  limbs,  and,  above 
all,  fill  the  Inner  woman  with  a  joy  unspeakable  and  beyond 
speech  or  understanding. 

The  ride  back  to  Whitehall  was  an  intoxicating  one. 
Londoners  had  at  last  a  ruler  who  was  a  supremely  able  man. 
They  could  go  to  their  shops,  and  buy  and  sell  in  security. 
Oliver  Protector  would  see  to  their  rights  and  their  wel 
fare.  His  very  appearance  was  satisfying ;  he  was  not  a 
young  man  headstrong  and  reckless,  but  a  Protector  who 
had  been  tried  on  the  battle-field  and  in  the  Council  Cham 
ber  and  never  found  wanting.  His  personality  also  was  the 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  247 

visible  presentment  of  the  qualities  they  admired  and  de 
sired.  They  looked  at  his  sturdy  British  growth,  and  were 
satisfied.  His  head  and  face,  muscular  and  massive,  were 
of  lion-like  aspect ;  his  stature  nearly  six  feet,  and  so  highly 
vitalised  as  to  look  much  higher.  Dark  brown  hair,  min 
gled  with  gray,  fell  below  his  collar-band,  and  from  under 
large  brows  his  deep,  loving  eyes  looked  as  if  in  lifelong 
sorrow  ;  and  yet  not  thinking  life  sorrow,  thinking  it  only 
labour  and  endeavour.  Valour,  devout  intelligence,  great 
simplicity,  and  a  singular  air  of  mysticism  invested  his  rug 
ged,  broad-hatted  majesty  with  a  character  or  impress  trans- 
cendentally  mysterious.  Even  his  enemies  felt  this  vague 
shadow  of  the  supernatural  over  and  around  him,  for  Sir 
Richard  Huddleston,  in  watching  him  on  Naseby's  field,  had 
cried  out  passionately,  "Who  will  find  King  Charles  a 
leader  like  him  ?  He  is  not  a  man  ;  he  is  one  of  the  ancient 
heroes  come  out  of  Valhalla." 

But  be  the  day  glad  or  sad,  time  runs  through  it,  and  the 
shadows  of  evening  found  the  whole  city  worn  out  with 
their  own  emotions.  Mrs.  Swaffham  and  Jane  were  glad 
to  return  to  the  quiet  of  their  home — "  Not  but  what  we 
have  had  a  great  day,  Jane,"  said  the  elder  woman  ;  "  but, 
dear  me,  child,  what  a  waste  of  life  it  is  !  I  feel  ten  years 
older.  It  would  not  do  to  spend  one's  self  this  way  very 
often." 

"  I  am  tired  to  death,  mother.  May  I  stay  in  my  room 
this  evening  ?  I  do  not  want  to  hear  any  more  about  the 
Cromwells,  and  I  dare  say  Doctor  Verity  will  come  home 
with  father,  and  they  will  talk  of  nothing  else." 

"•  You  are  fretting,  Jane,  and  fretting  is  bad  for  you  every 
way.  Why  will  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  help  it,  mother  ?  " 

Then   Mrs.  Swafi  ham   looked    at  her   daughter's  white 


248  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

face,  and  said,  "  You  know,  dear,  where  and  how  to  find 
the  comfort  you  need.  God  help  you,  child." 

And  oh,  how  good  it  was  to  the  heart-sick  girl,  to  be  at 
last  alone,  to  be  able  to  weep  unwatched  and  unchecked — 
to  shut  the  door  of  her  soul  on  the  world  and  open  it  to 
God,  to  tell  Him  all  her  doubt  and  fear  and  lonely  grief. 
This  was  her  consolation,  even  though  no  sensible  comfort 
came  from  it — though  the  heavens  seemed  far  off,  and  there 
was  no  ray  of  light,  no  whisper  from  beyond  to  encourage 
her.  Hoping  against  despair,  she  rose  up  saying,  "Though 
He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him  ; "  and  these  words  she 
repeated  over  and  over  with  increasing  fervour,  as  she  neatly 
folded  away  her  clothing  and  put  her  room  in  that  exquisite 
order  which  was  necessary  to  her  sleep,  or  even  rest.  For 
she  kept  still  her  childish  belief  that  her  angel  would  not 
visit  her,  if  her  room  was  untidy.  And  who  will  dare  to 
say  she  was  wrong  ?  These  primitive  faiths  hold  truths  hid 
from  the  wise  and  prudent,  but  revealed  to  the  simple  and 
pure  of  heart. 

At  nine  o'clock  her  mother  brought  her  a  possett  and 
toast,  and  she  took  them  gratefully.  "  Is  father  home  r  " 
she  asked. 

"Yes,  Jane.  He  came  in  an  hour  ago  with  Doctor 
Verity." 

"  Have  they  any  word  of " 

"  I  fear  not.  They  would  have  told  me  at  once.  I 
haven't  seen  much  of  them.  There  were  lots  of  things  un 
done,  and  badly  done,  to  look  after.  The  wenches  and  the 
men  have  been  on  the  streets  all  day,  and  the  kitchen  is  up 
side  down.  You  never  saw  the  like.  I  am  tired  of  this 
Cromwell  business,  I  am  that.  Phoebe  was  abusing  him 
roundly  as  she  jugged  the  hare  for  supper,  and  I  felt  kindly 
to  her  for  it.  '  You  are  a  pack  of  time-serving  turncoats,' 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  249 

she  was  saying  as  I  went  into  the  kitchen;  'you  would 
drink  as  much  ale  to-morrow  to  King  Charles  as  you  have 
drunk  to-day  to  old  Noll  Cromwell.'  And  as  she  was  stir 
ring  the  pot,  she  did  not  know  I  was  there,  until  I  an 
swered,  '  You  speak  God's  truth,  Phoebe !  '  Then  she 
turned  and  said,  '  I  do,  ma'am.  And  for  that  matter,  they 
would  drink  to  the  devil,  an  he  asked  them  with  old  Octo 
ber  !  '  Then  I  stopped  her  saucy  tongue.  But  I  don't  won 
der  at  her  temper — not  a  clean  saucepan  in  the  closets,  and 
men  and  maids  off  their  heads  with  ale  and  Cromwell  to 
gether." 

"  If  Doctor  Verity  gives  you  any  opportunity  will  you 
speak  about  Cluny,  mother  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  will.  He  and  others  will,  maybe,  have 
time  for  a  word  of  kindness  now.  I'm  sure  the  last  few 
weeks  have  been  past  bearing — a  nice  mess  the  saints  made 
of  everything — London  out  of  its  seven  senses,  and  the 
whole  country  screaming  behind  it ;  and  the  men  who  had 

J  O 

a  little  sense,  not  knowing  which  road  to  turn.  Now 
Cromwell  has  got  his  way,  there  will  be  only  Cromwell  to 
please,  and  surely  a  whole  city  full  can  manage  that." 

"  I  don't  suppose  he  has  ever  thought  of  Cluny  being  so 
long  over  time." 

"  Not  he  !      He  has  had  things  far  closer  to  him  to  look 

O 

after." 

"  But  now  ?  " 

"  Now  he  will  inquire  after  the  lad.  Doctor  Verity 
must  speak  to  h:m.  Dear  Jane,  do  you  suppose  I  don't  see 
how  you  are  suffering  ?  I  do,  my  girl,  and  I  suffer  with 
you.  But  even  your  father  thinks  we  are  worrying  our 
selves  for  nothing.  He  says  Cluny  will  walk  in  some  day 
and  tell  his  own  story — nothing  worse  than  a  tit  of  ague  or 
fever,  or  even  a  wound  from  some  street  pad  ;  perhaps  a 


25o  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

heavy  snowstorm,  or  the  swampy  Netherlands  under  water. 
Men  can't  fight  the  elements,  or  even  outwit  them,  dear. 
Mother  is  with  you,  Jane,  don't  you  doubt  that,"  and  she 
stepped  forward  and  clasped  the  girl  to  her  breast,  and 
kissed  the  tears  off  her  cheeks.  "  Now  drink  your  possett 
and  go  to  sleep ;  something  may  happen  while  you  are 
dreaming  of  it ;  the  net  of  the  sleeping  fisherman  takes  just 
as  well — better  maybe — than  if  he  kept  awake  to  watch 
it." 

So  Jane  laid  herself  down  and  slept,  and  if  her  angel 
came  with  a  comforting  thought  or  a  happy  vision,  she 
found  herself  in  a  spotless  room,  white  as  a  bride  chamber, 
holding  the  scent  of  rosemary  and  roses  from  the  pots  on 
the  window-sills,  and  prophesying  strength  and  comfort  in 
the  Bible  lying  open  at  the  forty-second  and  forty-third 
Psalms — "Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul  ?  And 
why  art  thou  disquieted  in  me  ?  Hope  thou  in  God  ;  for  I 
shall  yet  praise  Him  for  the  help  of  His  countenance." 

Jane's  supposition  that  Doctor  Verity  would  be  with  her 
father  and  that  their  talk  would  be  only  of  Cromwell,  was 
correct.  Mrs.  Swaffham  found  the  two  men  smoking  at 
the  fireside,  and  their  conversation  was  of  the  Man  and  the 
Hour.  She  sat  down  weary  and  sleepy,  so  much  so,  that 
she  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  contradict  Doctor  Verity, 
though  he  was  making,  in  her  opinion,  a  very  foolish  state 
ment. 

"  If  you  only  assert  a  thing  strong  enough  and  long 
enough,  Israel,  you  will  convince  the  multitude.  To-day, 
as  I  was  passing  Northumberland  House,  a  party  of  mus 
keteers  stopped  there,  and  cried,  '  God  save  the  Lord  Protec 
tor  !  '  and  the  crowd  asserted  in  the  most  positive  manner 
that  the  big  lion  on  the  house  wagged  its  tail  at  the  shout. 
Every  one  believed  it,  and  looked  at  the  beast  admir- 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  251 

ingly  -,  and  I  found  it  hard  to  keep  my  senses  in  the  face 
of  such  strong  assertion.  Vain  babble,  but  it  took  and 
pleased." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  Oliver  Cromwell.  Such  a  load  as  he 
has  shouldered  !  Can  he  bear  it  ?  "  said  Israel. 

"Through  God's  help,  yes ;  and  ten  times  over,  yes  ! 
He  is  a  great  man,"  answered  the  Doctor. 

"  I  think  more  of  measures  than  of  men,"  continued 
Israel. 

"Very  good.  But  something  depends  on  the  men,  just 
as  in  a  fire  something  depends  on  the  grate,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  the  man  we  knew  at  Hunt 
ingdon  and  St.  Ives  had  this  man  in  him  ?  And  what  a 
strange  place  for  God  to  bring  England's  Deliverer  out  of. 
No  captain  from  the  battle-field,  no  doctor  out  of  the  col 
leges,  but  a  gentleman  farmer  out  of  the  corn  market  and 
the  sheep  meadows  of  Sedgy  Ouse.  'Tis  wonderful 
enough,  Doctor." 

"  Great  men,  Israel,  have  always  come  from  the  most 
unlikely  places.  The  desert  and  the  wilderness,  the  sheep- 
folds  and  threshing  floors  bred  the  judges  and  prophets  of 
Israel.  From  the  despised  village  of  Nazareth  came  the 
Christ.  From  the  hot,  barren  deserts  of  Arabia,  came 
Mahomet.  From  the  arid  plains  of  Picardy,  came  Calvin. 
From  the  misty,  bare  mountains  of  Scotland,  came  John 
Knox,  and  from  the  fogs  and  swamps  of  the  Fen  country, 
comes  Oliver  Cromwell.  So  it  is,  and  should  be.  God 
chooses  for  great  men,  not  only  the  time,  but  the  place  of 
their  birth.  The  strength  of  Cromwell's  character  is  in 
its  mysticism,  and  this  quality  has  been  fed  from  its  youth 
up  by  the  monotony  of  his  rural  life,  by  the  sombre  skies 
above  him,  by  his  very  house,  which  was  like  a  deserted 


252  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

cloister  buried  in  big  trees.  All  those  years  Cromwell  was 
being  forged  and  welded  by  spiritual  influences  into  the 
man  of  Naseby  and  Dunbar  and  Worcester — into  the  man 
who  stepped  grandly  to  the  throne  we  saw  him  mount  to 
day." 

"  One  thing  is  sure :  he  will  set  free  all  godly  men  in 
prison  for  conscience'  sake — unless  it  be  papists  and  prel- 
atists.  Yet  'tis  hard  to  imprison  men  because  they  can't 
agree  about  caps  and  surplices." 

"  Such  talk  does  not  go  to  the  root  of  the  matter,  Israel. 
Oliver,  and  men  like  him,  look  on  papists  and  prelatists  as 
Amorites  and  Amalekites  to  be  rooted  out,  and  as  disloyal 
citizens  to  be  coerced  into  obedience." 

"  I  know  papists  that  believe  the  Mass  to  be  a  holy  obli 
gation.  They  are  sincere,  Doctor;  I  know  it." 

"  What  of  that,  Israel  ?  A  good  Puritan  cares  no  more 
for  their  sincere  opinions  than  the  Jewish  prophets  cared 
about  the  scruples  of  a  conscientious  believer  in  Baal. 
Why  should  he  ?  " 

"Well,  then,  as  to  Episcopacy— a  great  number  of  Eng 
lishmen  love  it ;  and  you  can't  preach  nor  teach  Episcopacy 
out  of  them." 

"  Don't  I  know  it  ?  Popery  without  the  Pope,  that  is 
what  Englishmen  want.  They  love  ceremonies  dearly ; 
they  love  Episcopacy  as  they  love  Monarchy.  Queen 
Elizabeth  made  an  ordinance  that  at  the  name  of  Christ 
every  woman  should  curtsy  and  every  man  bare  his  head. 
It  went  straight  to  the  heart  of  England.  Men  and  women 
loved  Elizabeth  for  it,  and  bent  their  knees  all  the  more 
willingly  to  herself.  As  for  Cromwell,  his  zeal  for  the 
Protestant  religion  will  be  the  key  to  every  act  of  his  reign. 
Take  my  word  for  it." 

"  Reign  ?  " 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  253 

"Yes,  reign.      He  is  King,  call  him  what  you  like." 
"  As  ruler — King  or  Protector — over  papists,  will  it  be 
right  to  hate  them  as  bitterly  as  he  does  ?  " 

"  Right  ?  Yes,  a  thousand  times  right.  You  must  re 
member  what  his  education  and  experience  have  been. 
From  some  who  lived  in  Mary's  reign  he  must  have  heard 
how  Ridley  and  Latimer  and  Cranmer  were  burned  in  the 
streets  of  Oxford  for  their  Protestantism.  The  whole 
awful  history  of  Mary's  reign  was  part  of  his  education. 
He  may  have  heard  from  eye-witnesses  of  the  scene  in  the 
great  square  of  Brussels  when  Horn  and  Egmont,  champions 
of  the  Protestant  faith,  were  beheaded  by  Alva's  bloody 
Council.  The  Armada  sent  to  conquer  England  and  force 
on  us  by  fire  and  sword  the  Catholic  religion,  was  wrecked 
on  our  shores  by  God  Almighty,  only  eleven  years  before 
Cromwell  was  born.  The  Popish  Gunpowder  Plot  to 
blow  up  the  King  and  the  Parliament  was  discovered  when 
he  was  six  years  old.  Both  of  these  last  events  were  the 
staple  of  fireside  conversations,  aud  would  be  told  him  in 
wonderfully  effective  words  by  his  grand-hearted  mother, 
and  you  may  be  sure  they  were  burned  into  the  heart  of 
the  boy  Oliver.  He  was  old  enough  to  understand  the 
cruel  murder  of  Henry  by  the  Jesuits  in  Paris;  he  grew 
into  his  manhood  during  the  thirty  years'  war  of  Catholic 
Europe  against  the  Protestants.  When  he  first  entered 
Parliament,  he  was  one  of  the  Committee  that  investigated 
the  brutal  treatment  of  Prynne,  Doctor  Bastwick  and  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Burton.  I  think,  indeed,  that  he  witnessed  these 
noble  confessors  pilloried  and  burned  with  hot  irons  and 
deprived  of  their  cars,  because  they  would  none  of  Laud's 
surplices  and  mummeries.  And  both  you  and  I  witnessed 
his  agonies  of  grief  and  anger  at  the  frightful  massacre  by 
Phelim  O'Ncil  of  one  hundred  thousand  Protestants  in 


254  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Ireland.  How  can  Cromwell  help  hating  popery  and  prel 
acy  ?  How  can  any  of  us  help  it  ?  Let  us  judge,  not  ac 
cording  to  outward  appearance,  but  with  righteous  judg 
ment.  Oliver  will  do  his  work,  and  he  will  do  it  well,  and 
then  go  to  Him  who  sent  him.  Verily,  I  believe  he  will 
hear  the  '  Well  done '  of  his  Master." 

"  And  then  ?  " 

"  The  Commonwealth  will  be  over.  The  soul  of  it  will 
have  departed — can  it  live  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Think  you  that  our  labour  and  lives  have  been  wasted  ? 
No,  no !  We  will  be  free  of  kings  forever ;  we  have 
written  that  compact  with  our  blood." 

"  Not  wasted,  Israel,  not  wasted.  The  Puritan  govern 
ment  may  perish,  the  Puritan  spirit  will  never  die.  Before 
these  wars,  England  was  like  an  animal  that  knew  not  its 
own  strength  ;  she  is  now  better  acquainted  with  herself. 
The  people  will  never  give  up  their  Parliament  and  the 
rights  the  Commonwealth  has  given  them,  and  if  kings 
come  back,  they  can  be  governed,  as  Davie  Lindsey  said, 
by  '  garring  them  ken,  they  have  a  lith  in  their  necks '  " 

"  If  I  survive  the  Puritan  government,"  said  Israel,  "  I 
will  join  the  pilgrims  who  have  gone  over  the  great  seas." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  Israel,  but  we  will  not  call  our 
selves  c  pilgrims.'  No,  indeed  !  No  men  are  less  like 
pilgrims  than  they  who  go,  not  to  wander  about,  but  to 
build  homes  and  cities  and  found  republics  in  the  land  they 
have  been  led  to.  They  are  citizens,  not  pilgrims." 

At  these  words  Mrs.  Swaffham,  who  had  listened  be 
tween  sleeping  and  waking,  roused  herself  thoroughly. 
"  Israel,"  she  said,  "  I  will  not  go  across  seas.  It  is  not 
likely.  Swaffham  is  our  very  own,  and  we  will  stay  in 
Swaffham.  And  I  do  not  think  it  is  fair,  or  even  loyal,  in 
you  and  Doctor  Verity,  on  the  very  day  you  have  made  a 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  255 

Protector    for    the    Commonwealth   to   be   prophesying   its 
end.      It  is  not  rio-ht." 

O 

"  It  is  very  wrong,  Martha,  and  you  do  well  to  reprove 
us,"  said  Doctor  Verity. 

"  And  talking  of  going  across  seas,"  she  continued,  "  re 
minds  me  of  Cluny  ;  neither  of  you  seem  to  care  about 
him,  yet  our  Jane  is  fretting  herself  sick,  and  you  might 
both  of  you  see  it." 

"  Tell  Jane  to  be  patient,"  said  Doctor  Verity.  "  If 
Cluny  is  not  back  by  the  New  Year,  I  will  go  myself  and 
bring  him  back.  There  is  no  need  to  fret ;  tell  her  that." 

"  Yet  we  must  speak  to  Cromwell  about  the  young 
man,"  said  Jane's  father;  "there  has  likely  been  some  let 
ter  or  message  from  him,  which  in  the  hurry  and  trouble  of 
the  last  month  has  been  forgotten.  You  will  see  the  Pro 
tector  to-morrow,  speak  to  him." 

"  If  it  is  possible,  Israel.  But  remember  all  is  to  ar 
range  and  rearrange,  order  and  reorder,  men  to  put  out  of 
office,  and  men  to  put  into  office.  The  work  before  the 
Protector  is  stupendous." 

This  opinion  proved  to  be  correct.  Day  after  day  passed, 
and  no  word  concerning  Cluny  was  possible  ;  but  about  the 
New  Year  a  moment  was  found  in  which  to  name  the 
young  man  and  wonder  at  his  delay.  Cromwell  appeared 
to  be  startled.  u  Surely  there  must  have  been  some  word 
from  him,"  he  said.  "  I  think  there  has.  A  letter  must 
have  come  ;  it  has  been  laid  aside ;  if  so,  there  could  have 
been  nothing  of  importance  in  it — no  trouble,  or  I  would 
have  been  told.  Mr.  Milton  is  fond  of  Lord  Neville  ;  so  am 
I,  indeed  I  am,  and  I  will  have  inquiry  made  without  delay." 

"Without  delay"  in  government  inquiries  may  mean 
much  time.  The  accumulated  papers  and  letters  of  a  month 
or  more  had  to  be  examined,  and  when  this  was  accom- 


256  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

plished,  nothing  had  been  found  that  threw  any  light  on 
Neville's  detention.  Yet  no  anxiety  was  expressed.  Every 
one  had  such  confidence  in  the  young  man  ;  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  the  exigencies  of  travel,  ready  in  resort,  and  brave 
and  wise  in  emergencies.  Cromwell  made  light  of  any 
supposition  affecting  his  safety,  and  there  was  nothing  then 
for  Jane  to  do,  but  bear,  and  try  to  believe  with  those  sup 
posed  to  know  better  than  herself,  that  the  difficulties  of 
winter  travel  in  strange  countries  would  easily  account  for 
her  lover's  non-appearance. 

Thus,  sad  with  the  slow  sense  of  time,  and  with  grief 
void  and  dark,  Jane  passed  the  weary  days.  The  world 
went  on,  her  heart  stood  still.  Yet  it  was  in  these  sorrow 
ful  days,  haunted  by  uncertain  presentiments,  that  she  first 
felt  the  Infinite  around  her.  It  was  then  that  she  began  to 
look  for  comfort  from  within  the  veil,  and  to  listen  for 
some  answering  voice  from  the  other  life,  because  in  this 
life  there  was  none.  Outside  of  these  consolations  she 
had  only  a  bewildering  fear,  and  she  would  have  wept  and 
worried  her  beauty  away,  had  there  not  dwelt  in  her  pure 
soul  the  perennial  youth  of  silent  worship.  But  this  con 
stantly  renovating  power  was  that  fine  flame  of  spiritual 
light  in  which  physical  beauty  refines  itself  to  the  burning 
point.  The  greatest  change  was  in  her  manner;  a  slight 
cold  austerity  had  taken  the  place  of  her  natural  cheerful 
ness — this  partly  because  she  thought  there  was  a  want  of 
sympathy  in  all  around  her,  and  partly  because  only  by 
this  guarded  composure  could  she  maintain  that  tearless 
reticence  she  felt  necessary  to  her  self-respect.  Neverthe 
less,  through  her  faith,  her  innocence,  her  high  thought  and 
her  laborious  peace,  she  set  her  feet  upon  a  rock. 

One  crisp,  sunny  morning  in  January  she  suddenly  re 
solved  to  make  some  inquiries  herself.  It  was  not  an  easy 


OLIVER  PROTECTOR  257 

thing  to  do  ;  all  her  education  and  all  conventional  feeling 
were  against  a  girl  taking  such  a  step.  But  the  misery  of  a 
grief  not  sure  is  very  great,  and  Jane  believed  that  her  di 
rect  inquiries  might  be  of  some  avail.  She  went  first  to 
Jevery  House.  Sir  Thomas  had  a  financial  interest  in 
Lord  Neville's  return,  and  it  was  likely  he  had  made  inves 
tigations,  if  no  one  else  had.  She  expected  to  find  him  in 
his  garden,  and  she  was  not  disappointed  ;  wrapped  in  furs, 
he  was  walking  up  and  down  the  flagged  pathway  leading 
from  the  gates  to  the  main  door  of  the  mansion.  He  was 
finding  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  in  the  green  box  borders 
and  the  fresh  brown  earth  which,  he  said  to  Jane,  was 
"  nourishing  and  cherishing  his  lilies  and  daffodils.  You 
must  come  again  in  three  weeks,  Jane,"  he  added  ;  "  and 
perhaps  you  will  see  them  putting  out  their  little  green 
fingers."  Jane  answered,  "Yes,  sir;"  but  immediately 
plunged  into  the  subject  so  near  her. 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  about  Lord  Neville,  Sir 
Thomas  r  "  she  asked.  "  I  must  tell  you  that  he  is  my 
lover ;  we  were  betrothed  with  my  parents'  consent,  and  I 
am  very,  very  unhappy  at  his  long  delay." 

"  So  am  I,"  answered  Sir  Thomas.  "  I  sent  a  trusty 
man  to  The  Hague,  and  it  seems  Lord  Neville  collected  the 
money  due  me  there,  six  weeks  ago.  A  singular  circum 
stance  in  this  connection  is  that  he  refused  a  note  on  the 
Leather  Merchants'  Guild  of  this  city,  and  insisted  on 
benvj;  paid  in  gold,  and  was  so  paid.  Now,  fane,  a  thou 
sand  sovereigns  are  not  easily  carried, — and  and  — 

"Well,  sir?      Please  go  on." 

"A  ship  left  that  ni^ht  for  the  Americas— for  the  Vir 
ginia  Colonv." 

"  But  Lord  Neville  did  not  go  to  America.  Oh,  no,  sir  ! 
That  is  an  impossible  thought." 


258  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  Well,  then,  there  is  this  alternative  :  the  merchant  who 
paid  him  the  money  died  a  few  days  afterwards  of  smallpox. 
Was  there  infection  in  the  money  ?  Did  Lord  Neville  take 
the  smallpox  and  die  !  " 

"  But  if  he  had  been  sick  he  would  have  known  the 
danger,  and  written  some  letter  and  provided  for  the  safety 
of  the  property  in  his  charge.  He  knew  many  people  in 
The  Hague.  This  supposition  is  very  unlikely." 

"  Why  did  he  insist  on  the  gold  ?  This  is  the  thing  that 
troubles  me." 

"  Who  says  he  insisted  on  gold  ?  " 

"  The  widow  of  the  man  who  paid  it." 

"  She  may  have  been  mistaken.  She  may  herself  be  dis 
honest.  The  money  may  never  have  been  paid  at  all.  I 
do  not  believe  it  has  been  paid.  Did  your  trusty  man  see 
Lord  Neville's  quittance  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  thought  of  that,  Jane.  I  was  troubled  at 
the  story,  and  accepted  it  as  it  was  given.  It  was  too  pain 
ful  and  suspicious  to  examine." 

"  For  that  reason  it  must  be  sifted  to  the  very  bottom. 
That  Dutch  widow  has  the  money,  doubtless.  Did  your 
messenger  ask  her  to  describe  Lord  Neville  ?  Did  he  ask 
her  any  particulars  of  the  interview  ?  It  is  easy  to  say  the 
thousand  pounds  were  paid.  I  do  not  believe  her." 

"Well,  my  little  mistress,  your  faith  infects  me.  I  will 
send  again  to  The  Hague." 

"  Yes,  sir;  and  let  your  messenger  ask  to  see  Lord 
Neville's  quittance.  Cluny  did  not  receive  from  any  one  a 
thousand  pounds  without  an  acknowledgment  of  the  pay 
ment.  Let  the  woman  show  it." 

"You  are  right.  I  will  make  further  inquiries  at 
once." 

"  To-day,  sir  ?      Please,  to-day,   sir." 


OIJVKR  PROTECTOR  259 

"  I  will  send  a  man  to   The  Hague  to-day." 

u  Thank  you,  Sir  Thomas.  Can  I  now  see  Lady  Jevery 
and  Lady  Matilda  ?  " 

"My  dear,  they  are  both  at  de  Wick.  A  week  ago  my 
niece  received  a  letter  from  the  man  who  bought  the  estate. 
He  urged  theai  to  come  and  see  him.  He  said  he  had  not 
long  to  live,  and  that  before  he  went  away  he  had  some 
most  important  intelligence,  vitally  affecting  the  de  Wicks, 
to  communicate.  My  niece  thought  it  prudent,  even  nec- 
essarv,  to  make  the  visit ;  and  Lady  Jevery  went  with  her. 
In  a  couple  of  weeks  I  shall  go  for  them." 

"  But  before   you  go " 

"  I  have  said  '  to-day,'  Mistress  Jane.  I  will  keep  my 
promise.  Why  do  you  not  see  the  Protector  ?  He  was 
fond  of  the  young  man ;  he  believed  in  him." 

She  only  answered,  "Yes,  sir,"  and  then  adding,  "  Good- 
morning,  sir,"  she  turned  to  go.  Her  face  was  so  white 
and  so  full  of  hopeless  disappointment,  he  could  not  endure 
to  keep  its  memory  a  moment.  Hastening  after  her,  he 
said,  "My  dear  little  mistress,  I  am  certain  of  one  thing — 
if  there  is  any  wrong  about  this  matter  it  is  not  Lord 
Neville's  fault,  it  is  his  misfortune." 

She  received  this  acknowledgment  with  a  grateful  smile, 
yet  her  whole  appearance  was  so  wretched  Sir  Thomas 
could  not  rid  himself  of  her  unhappy  atmosphere.  His  walk 
was  spoiled  ;  he  went  into  his  private  room  and  smoked  a 
pipe  of  Virginia,  but  all  his  thoughts  set  themselves  to  one- 
text  :  "  There  are  many  sorrowful  things  in  life,  but  the 
hardest  of  all  is  loving;." 


CHAPTER  XII 

HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS 

"  Hold  Thou  my  hands  : 

In  grief  and  joy,  in  hope  and  fear, 
Lord  let  me  feel  that  Thou  art  near ; 
Hold  Thou  my  hands." 

THERE  are  two  ways  to  manage  a  day  that  begins  badly; 
we  may  give  the  inner  man  or  woman  control,  and  permit 
them  to  compel  events ;  or  we  may  retire  until  unpropitious 
influences  have  passed  us  by.  It  is  perhaps  only  in  ex 
tremes  the  first  alternative  is  taken ;  usually  the  soul  pre 
fers  withdrawal.  Jane  felt  that  it  was  useless  for  her  to 
attempt  a  visit  to  the  Protector  that  day,  and  she  hastened 
to  the  covert  of  her  home.  Her  mother's  kind  face  met 
her  at  the  threshold,  and  the  commonplace  domestic  in 
fluences  of  the  set  dinner-table,  and  the  busy  servants, 
recalled  her  thoughts  from  their  sad  and  profitless  wander 
ing  among  possible  and  impossible  calamities. 

Mrs.  SvvafFham  had  a  letter  in  her  hand,  and  she  said  as 
soon  as  she  saw  her  daughter,  "What  do  you  think,  Jane? 
Cymlin  has  got  his  discharge,  and  instead  of  coming 
here,  he  has  gone  to  SwafFham.  And  he  says  Will  and 
Tonbert  are  in  the  mind  to  join  a  party  of  men  who  will 
pay  a  visit  to  the  Massachusetts  Colony  ;  and  Cymlin  says 
it  is  a  good  thing,  and  that  he  will  stay  at  SwafFham  and 
keep  everything  up  to  collar." 

"  I  was  at  Jevery  House,  mother,"  said  Jane,  "  and 
Lady  Jevery  and  Matilda  are  gone  to  de  Wick." 

260 


HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS  261 

"Never  !  That  accounts  for  Cymlin's  being  so  thought 
ful  for  Swaffham.  Reasons  for  all  things,  Jane,  and  some 
woman  at  the  bottom  of  all.  I  am  sorrier  than  I  can  tell 
you.  Matilda  will  take  her  sport  out  of  Cymlin,  and  leave 
him  with  a  laugh.  I  know  her.  I  will  write  to  Cymlin 
this  night." 

*'  But  why,  mother?  You  can  do  no  good.  A  word,  a 
look  from  Matilda,  and  a  fig  for  all  advices  !  "  Then  she 
told  her  mother  of  Anthony  Lynn's  message,  and  they 
talked  awhile  of  its  probable  meaning,  Mrs.  Swaffham 
being  of  the  opinion  that  Lynn's  conscience  was  trou 
bling  him,  and  that  he  wanted,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  to  pro 
pitiate  the  de  Wicks. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  "  it  is  not  only  the  living  de 
Wicks,  Jane,  there  is  a  powerful  gathering  of  the  family  on 
the  other  side. ,  And  the  late  Earl  was  very  good  to  Anthony. 
From  his  boyhood  he  was  fostered  by  the  de  Wicks,  and 
then  to  think  of  his  buying  out  the  young  Earl  and  Ma 
tilda  !" 

"  If  he  had  not  bought  out  de  Wick,  somebody  else 
would  •,  and  perhaps  the  de  Wicks  would  rather  have  an 
old  retainer  there  than  some  unknown  stranger,"  said  Jane. 

"  It  is  hard  to  tell  what  the  dead  like,  and  how  they  feel ; 
but  it  is  a  wise  thing  to  treat  every  one  in  this  world  so  that 
you  won't  be  afraid  to  meet  them  in  the  next  world.  I 
wouldn't  wonder  if  Anthony  Lynn  felt  a  bit  afraid  to  meet 
Earl  Marmaduke;  anyway,  he  ought  to  be  ashamed. 
k  Anthony  was  always  known  for  a  prudent  man ;  he  is 
going  to  make  his  peace  at  the  gates  of  death,  for  fear  of 
what  is  beyond  them." 

"  I  do  not  know.  Sir  Thomas  offered  no  opinion  ;  and 
he  said  some  cruel  things  about  Cluny,  though  he  followed 
me  to  unsay  them." 


262  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Then  Jane  told  her  mother  what  suspicions  evidently  ex 
isted  in  the  mind  of  Sir  Thomas,  and  Mrs.  Swaffham 
laughed  at  their  absurdity,  and  was  then  angry  at  their  in 
justice;  and  finally  she  sent  Jane  up-stairs  to  dress  for  din 
ner  in  a  much  more  hopeful  and  worldlike  temper.  This 
day  was  followed  by  a  week  of  wretched  weather.  Jane 
could  do  nothing  but  wait.  Her  soul,  however,  had  reached 
its  lowest  depth  of  despondence  during  her  visit  to  Sir 
Thomas  Jevery,  and  on  reviewing  it,  she  felt  as  if  she  had 
betrayed  her  inner  self — let  a  stranger  look  at  her  grief  and 
see  her  faint  heart,  and  suspect  that  she,  also,  had  a  doubt 
of  her  lover.  She  was  mortified  at  her  weakness,  and  fully 
resolved  when  she  visited  Cromwell,  to  show  him  the  heart 
of  a  fearless  woman — brave,  because  she  doubted  neither 
God  nor  man. 

It  was,  however,  the  month  of  March  before  this  visit 
could  be  made.  The  bad  weather  was  the  precursor  of  a  bad 
cold,  and  then  she  had  to  consider  the  new  domestic  ar 
rangements  of  the  Cromwell  family.  The  royal  apartments 
in  Whitehall  and  in  the  palace  of  Hampton  Court  were 
being  prepared  for  the  Protector's  family,  and  Jane  knew 
from  her  father's  reports,  as  well  as  from  her  own  acquaint 
ance  with  her  Highness  and  her  daughters,  that  all  the 
changes  made  would  be  of  the  utmost  interest  to  them. 
She  was  averse  either  to  intrude  on  their  joy  or  to  have 
them  notice  her  anxiety. 

But  one  exquisite  morning  in  March  she  heard  General 
Swaffham  say  that  the  Cromwell  ladies  were  going  to 
Hampton  Court.  The  Protector  would  then  be  alone  in 
Whitehall,  and  she  might  see  him  without  having  to  share 
her  confidences  with  the  family.  She  prepared  a  note  ask 
ing  for  an  interview,  and  then  called  on  Mr.  Milton  and 
induced  him  to  go  with  her  to  the  palace  and  deliver  it  into 


HOLD  THOU   MY   HANDS  263 

Cromwell's  hand.  In  her  simplicity  she  considered  this 
little  plan  to  he  a  very  wise  one,  and  so  it  proved.  Mr. 
Milton  had  no  difficulty  in  reaching  the  Protector,  who,  as 
soon  as  he  read  Jane's  appeal,  was  ready  to  receive  her. 
She  had  been  much  troubled  about  this  audience,  how  she 
was  to  behave,  and  with  what  words  she  should  address 
Cromwell,  but  her  fear  left  her  as  soon  as  the  door  closed, 
and  she  was  alone  with  her  old  friend. 

"Jane,"  he  said  kindly,  "Jane,  what  is  the  trouble  ?" 

"  It  is  Lord  Neville,  sir.  Nothing  has  been  heard  of 
him,  and  I  wish  to  tell  you  what  Sir  Thomas  Jevery  said." 
She  did  so,  and  Cromwell  listened  with  a  smile  of  incredul 
ity.  "We  know  Neville  better  than  that,"  he  answered. 
"  It  would  be  a  great  wonder  if  he  should  think  of  America, 
fane.  Would  a  man  in  his  senses  leave  you,  and  his  es 
tate,  and  his  good  friends  and  good  prospects  to  go  into  the 
wilderness  ?  Truly  he  would  not.  His  home  and  land  in 
Life  are  worth  more  than  Jevery's  gold  and  jewels,  and  I 
do  think  mv  favour  may  count  for  something.  And  more 
than  these  things  there  is  your  love.  You  do  love  him, 
fane  :  " 

"  Better  than  my  life,  your  Highness." 

"  And  he  loves  you  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  am  most  certain  of  it." 

u  When  did  you  hear  last  from  him  ?  " 

fane  had  expected  this  question  and  she  offered  Crom 
well  Cluny's  last  letter,  and  asked  him  to  read  it.  He  read 
it  aloud,  letting  his  voice  become  sweet  and  tender  as  he 

O 

did  so. 

u  Mv  dearest  and  most  honoured  mistress,  I  am  just  on 
the  moment  of  leaving  Paris;  my  horse  is  at  the  door;  but 
by  a  messenger  that  will  come  more  directly  than  myself,  1 
send  you  a  last  word  from  this  place.  Mv  thoughts  out- 


264  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

reach  all  written  words.  I  am  with  you,  my  own  dear  one, 
in  all  my  best  moments,  and  my  unchangeable  love  salutes 
you.  Graciously  remember  me  in  your  love  and  prayers. 

"CLUNY  NEVILLE." 

"  A  good  letter,  Jane.  I  do  think  the  man  that  wrote  it 
is  beyond  guile,  beyond  dishonour  of  any  kind.  I  will  not 

hear  a  doubt  of  him.      I  will  not "     With  these  words 

he  rose,  and  taking  Jane's  hand  in  his,  he  began  to  walk 
with  her,  up  and  down  the  room.  His  clasp  was  so  hot 
and  tight  she  could  have  cried  out,  but  glancing  into  his 
face  she  saw  it  was  only  the  physical  expression  of  thoughts 
he  did  not  care  to  give  words  to.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
touched  a  bell,  and  when  it  was  answered  said,  "  Mr.  Tas- 
burg  to  my  presence — without  delay."  Mr.  Tasburg  came 
without  delay,  and  Cromwell  turned  to  him  in  some  pas 
sion. 

"Mark  Tasburg,"  he  said  scornfully,  "I  know  not 
whether  you  have  been  alive  or  dead.  I  have  not  once 
heard  from  you  in  the  matter  of  Lord  Neville's  delay  ;  I 
have  not,  and  that  you  know.  The  commission  for  your 
search  is  more  than  a  month  old  ;  it  is,  sir ;  and  I  like  not 
such  delays.  I  will  not  have  them." 

"  My  Lord  Protector,  I  reported  to  Mr.  Thurloe  and  Mr. 
Milton  that  my  search  had  been  of  no  avail." 

"  Who  gave  you  the  order  to  make  this  search  ?  " 

"Your  Highness." 

"  Did  I  give  you  an  order  to  report  to  Mr.  Thurloe  or 
Mr.  Milton  ?  Did  I  ?" 

"No,  your  Highness." 

"  See,  then,  what  you  have  taken  upon  yourself.  Be  not 
so  forward  again,  or  you  may  go  back  to  St.  Ives  and  make 
clay  pipes.  What  date  does  Lord  Neville's  last  letter 
bear  ?  " 


HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS  265 

"  It  was  written  at  Paris  on  the  eleventh  day  of  Novem 
ber." 

u  The  same  date  as  your  last  letter,  Mistress  S waft" ham. 
Four  months  ago.  This  is  serious."  Then  turning;  to 

o  o 

Tasburg  he  said,  "  Find  Colonel  Ayrton  and  send  him  here, 
to  me,  without  delay." 

During  the  interval  between  Tasburg's  departure  and 
Ayrton's  arrival,  Cromwell  was  occupied  in  writing  a  letter, 
and  when  it  was  finished,  Colonel  Ayrton  entered. 

"  Colonel,"  he  said,  "•  I  think  you  know  Lord  Cluny 
Neville  ?  " 

"Your  Highness,  I  know  him  well.  His  mother  was 
my  fifth  cousin." 

u  He  has  disappeared,  I  do  fear,  in  some  unfortunate 
wav.  On  the  eleventh  of  last  November  he  left  Paris, 
after  despatching  the  business  he  was  sent  on  with  Cardinal 
Mazarin.  No  one  has  heard  of  him  since.  He  was  going 
to  The  Hague,  but  whether  by  land  or  water,  does  not  ap 
pear.  I  have  written  to  his  Eminence,  the  Cardinal ;  here 
is  the  letter,  and  if  his  reply  be  not  to  the  point,  go  next  to 
the  lodging  of  Lord  Neville,  and  from  there  follow  his 
steps  as  closely  as  it  may  be  in  your  power.  The  treasurer 
will  honour  this  order  for  your  expenses.  Waste  no  time. 
Be  prudent  with  your  tongue.  Say  not  all  your  mind,  and 
send  me  some  tidings  with  all  convenient  speed." 

"  I  am  a  willing  messenger,  your  Highness.  I  am 
bound  to  my  cousin  by  many  kind  ties,  and  I  have  been 
most  uneasy  at  his  silence  and  absence." 

"  Farewell,  then,  and  God  go  with  you." 

He  waited  until  the  door  closed,  and  then  he  said,  "  I 
owe  you  this  and  more,  Jane  ;  and  I  like  the  youth  a 
dear,  religious  youth,  of  a  manly  spirit  and  a  true  heart. 
He  was  always  counted  fortunate,  for  in  all  our  battles  he 


266  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

went  shot  free.  I  wish,  I  do  wish,  we  could  hear  of  him  ! 
And  you  love  him,  Jane  ?  And  he  loves  you.  My  heart 
aches  for  both  of  you  ;  it  does  indeed.  But  I  think  I  can 
do  somewhat  in  this  matter,  and  truly  I  will  use  my  en 
deavour.  Why  does  he  not  come  ?  What  can  have  hin 
dered  him  ?  "  he  cried  impatiently  as  if  to  himself. 

"  Oh,  sir,  he  is  sick  or  wounded — perhaps  at  death's 
door  in  some  poor  man's  cottage,  in  some  lonely  place  far 
from  help  or  friends,"  and  here  Jane  burst  into  passionate 
weeping. 

u  You  must  not,  you  must  not  cry,  Jane ;  I  beg  it  as  a 
favour — not  in  the  sight  of  men  and  women.  Tears  are 

O 

for  the  Father  of  spirits.  Retire  to  Him  who  is  a  sure 
resting-place,  and  there  weep  your  heart  empty  ;  for  He 
can,  and  He  will  wipe  all  tears  away.  As  for  your  dear 
lord  and  lover,  he  is  within  God's  knowledge,  and  if  God 
saves  souls,  surely  He  can  save  bodies." 

"  It  is  four  months,  sir.  'Tis  beyond  my  hope  ;  and  I 
fear  Cluny  is  now  beyond  human  help." 

u  Well,  then,  Jane,  we  will  trust  to  the  miraculous.  We 
do  not  do  that  enough,  and  so  when  our  poor  help  is  not 
sufficient,  we  tremble.  Where  is  the  hope  and  trust  you 
sent  to  me  when  I  lay  between  life  and  death  in  Scotland  ? 
Oh,  what  poor  creatures  we  are,  when  we  trust  in  our 
selves  !  nothing  then  but  tears  and  fears  and  the  grave  to 
end  all.  But  I  confess  I  never  expected  Jane  Swaffham 
to  be  down  in  the  mire.  Jane  knows  she  is  the  daughter 
of  the  everlasting,  powerful,  infinite,  inscrutable  God  Al 
mighty  ;  she  knows  this  God  is  also  one  of  goodness  and 
mercy  and  truth  without  end,  to  those  who  love  Him. 
You  love  Him,  you  do  love  Him  ?  " 

"  I  have  loved  Him  ever  since  I  could  speak  His  Holy 
Name.  But  He  never  now  answers  me  ;  when  I  pray  to 


HOLD  THOU   MY  HANDS  7.67 

Him  the  heavens  seem  to  let  my  prayers  fall  back  to  me. 
Has  He  forgotten  me  ?  " 

"  Jane,  Jane,  oh,  Jane  !  What  a  question  for  you  to 
ask  !  I  could  chide  you  for  it.  Have  you  forgotten  the 
teaching  of  your  Bible,  and  your  catechism,  of  your  good 
pastor,  John  Verity,  and  your  father  and  mother  ?  Do  you 
believe  for  one  moment  that  God  has  any  abortive  chil 
dren  ?  He  has  not.  He  is  the  father  of  such  souls  as,  ac 
cording  to  His  appointment,  come  to  perfection.  If  you 
have  ever,  for  one  moment,  felt  the  love  of  the  Ineffable 
Nameless  One,  I  do  assure  you  it  is  a  love  for  all  eternity  ! 
It  is,  Jane,  it  is,  surely.  He  does  not  love  and  withdraw  ; 
no,  no  ;  we  may  deserve  to  be  denied,  we  may  deserve  to 
be  abandoned,  but  just  because  it  is  so,  He  seeks  and  He 
saves  the  children  lost,  or  in  danger."  And  then  he 
stooped  and  dried  her  eyes  with  his  kerchief,  and  seating 
her  on  a  sofa,  he  brought  a  glass  of  wine,  and  said, 

"  Drink,  my  dear;  and  as  you  drink,  ask  for  strength  no 
juice  of  earthly  fruit  can  give.  Do  not  pray  for  this  thing, 
or  that  thing  ;  if  you  will  say  only,  '  Thy  will  be  done,' 
you  will  find  mercy  at  need  ;  you  will  indeed.  I  do  know 
it." 

"  All  is  so  dark,  sir." 

"And  will  be,  till  He  says,  'Let  there  be  light.'  I 
scruple  not  to  say  this." 

"  Oh,  sir,  what  shall  I  do?      What  shall  I  do?  " 

"Put  a  blank  into  God's  hand,  and  tell  Him  to  fill  it  as 
He  chooses  •-— Cluny  or  no  Cluny,  love,  or  death  of  love,  joy 
or  sorrow,  just  what  He  wills.  In  my  judgment  this  is  the 
way  of  Peace.  Do  von  think,  Jane,  that  I  have  chosen  the 
path  I  now  walk  in  ?  I  have  not,  God  knows  it.  God 
knows  I  would  be  a  far  happier  man  with  my  flocks  in  the 
Ouse  meadows;  I  would,  I  say  what  is  in  my  heart.  Is 


268  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

this  greatness  laid  on  me  for  my  glory  and  honour  ?  Truly, 
it  is  only  labour  and  sorrow.  If  I  did  not  find  mercy  and 
strength  at  need,  I  should  faint  and  utterly  fail  under  the 
burden,  for  indeed  I  am  the  burden-bearer  of  all  England 
this  day.  I  need  pity,  I  do  need  it ;  I  need  God's  pity, 
yes,  and  human  pity  also." 

There  was  the  shadow  of  unshed  tears  in  his  sad,  gray 
eyes,  and  an  almost  childlike  pathos  in  his  dropped  head. 
Jane  could  not  bear  it.  She  stroked  and  kissed  his  big 
hand,  and  her  tears  fell  down  upon  it.  "  I  will  go  home," 
she  said  softly,  "  and  pray  for  you.  I  will  not  pray  for 
myself,  but  for  you.  I  will  ask  God  to  stand  at  your  right 
hand  and  your  left  hand,  to  beset  you  behind  and  before, 
and  to  lay  His  comforting,  helping  hand  upon  you.  And 
you  must  not  lose  heart,  sir,  under  your  burden,  because 
many  that  were  with  you  have  gone  against  you,  or  because 
there  are  constant  plots  to  take  your  life.  There  is  the 
ninetieth  Psalm.  It  is  yours,  sir." 

And  Cromwell's  face  shone,  and  he  spoke  in  an  ecstasy, 
"  Truly,  truly,  he  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the 
Most  High  shall  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty. 
How  did  David  reach  that  height,  Jane  ?  " 

"  He  was  taught  of  God,  sir." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that.  I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  He  is  my 
refuge  and  my  fortress ;  my  God,  in  Him  will  I  trust — 
thou  shalt  not  be  afraid  for  the  terror  by  night,  nor  for  the 
arrow  that  flieth  by  day — He  shall  give  His  angels  charge 
over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways." 

"  My  dear  lord,  is  not  that  sufficient  ?  "  and  Jane's  face 
was  now  full  of  light,  and  she  forgot  her  fears,  and  her 
sorrow  was  lifted  from  her.  She  found  a  strange  courage, 
and  the  words  were  put  into  her  mouth,  so  that  she  must 
needs  say  them  : 


HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS  269 

"  It  is  most  true,  our  Protector,  that  you  have  a  great 
burden,  but  are  you  not  glad  of  heart  that  God  looked  down 
from  heaven,  and  seeing  poor  England  bound  and  suffering, 
chose  you — you,  from  out  of  tens  of  thousands  of  Eng 
lishmen — and  called  you  from  your  sheep  and  oxen  and 
wheat-fields,  and  said  unto  you,  '  Oliver  Cromwell,  free  My 
people^  and  then  so  filled  your  heart  with  the  love  of  free 
dom  that  you  could  not  help  but  answer,  '  Here  am  /, 
Lord.''  The  other  night  I  listened  to  some  heavenly 
discourse  from  Doctor  Verity,  and  he  said  that  from 
henceforth,  every  flying  fold  of  our  English  flag  would 
have  but  one  spoken  word  for  all  nations,  and  that  word 
Freedom.  Some  may  be  ungrateful,  but  your  faith  and 
valour  and  labour  for  England  will  never  be  forgotten. 
Never  !  " 

Her  face  gathered  colour  and  light  beyond  the  colour  and 
light  of  mere  flesh  and  blood  as  she  spoke,  and  Cromwell's 
reflected  it.  He  was  "  in  the  spirit,"  as  this  childlike 
woman  with  prescient  vision  prophesied  for  him,  and  look 
ing  far,  far  oft  into  the  future,  as  one  seeing  things  invisi 
ble,  he  answered  confidently  — 

"  I  know,  and  I  am  sure,  Jane,  that  time  will  be  the  seal 
to  my  faithfulness.  I  know,  and  I  am  sure,  that  my  name 
shall  mix  with  every  thought  and  deed  of  Freedom,  even  in 
lands  now  unknown,  and  in  ages  yet  to  come.  Then, 
brave  freemen  shall  say  in  my  ears,  'Well  done  my  son.' 
And  shall  not  the  dead  ears  hear  ?  They  shall.  Indeed 
they  shall  !  T  know,  and  am  sure,  Jane,  that  English 
speaking  men  will  take  in  trust,  not  only  my  name,  but  the 
names  of  all  who,  with  me,  held  their  lives  less  than  Free 
dom,  and  gave  them  a  burnt-offering  and  blood  sacrifice 
without  price  or  grudging.  These  men  dying,  mixed  their 
breath  and  names  with  Freedom's,  and  they  shall  live  for- 


270  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

ever.  For  this  is  the  truth,  Jane  :  thrones  shall  fall  and 
nations  pass  away,  but  death  has  no  part  in  Freedom." 

And  as  he  spoke,  his  words  rang  and  sounded  like  music, 
and  stirred  the  blood  like  a  trumpet ;  and  Jane's  face  was 
lifted  to  the  rough,  glorified  visage  of  the  warrior  and  the 
seer,  who  saw  yet  afar  off  his  justification,  saw  it  in  the 
Red  Cross  of  St.  George  flying  over  land  and  sea,  and  car- 
rving  in  all  its  blowing  folds  only  one  glorious  word — 
"  FREEDOM." 

In  such  moments  Cromwell's  spirit  walked  abreast  of 
angels ;  he  looked  majestic,  he  spoke  without  pause  or  am 
biguity,  and  with  an  heroic  dictation  that  carried  conviction 
rather  than  offense,  for  it  had  nothing  personal  in  it,  and 
it  suited  him  just  as  hardness  suits  fine  steel. 

In  this  enthusiasm  of  national  feeling,  Jane  forgot  her 
personal  grief,  and  as  she  went  homeward,  she  kept  re 
peating  to  herself  Cromwell's  parting  words,  "  Don't  doubt, 
Jane.  God  nor  man  nor  nature  can  do  anything  for  doubt 
ers.  They  cannot."  She  understood  what  was  included 
in  this  advice,  and  she  tried  to  realise  it.  The  moment 
Mrs.  Swaffham  saw  her  daughter,  she  took  notice  of  the 
change  in  her  countenance  and  speech  and  manner,  and  she 
said  to  herself, "  Jane  has  been  with  Oliver  Cromwell.  No 
one  else  could  have  so  influenced  her."  And  very  soon 
Jane  told  her  all  that  had  been  done  and  said,  and  both 
women  tried  to  assure  themselves  that  a  few  more  weeks 
of  patience  would  bring  them  that  certainty  which  is  so 
much  easier  to  bear  than  suspense.  For  the  very  hope  of 
suspense  is  cruel,  but  in  the  face  of  a  sorrow,  sure  and 
known,  the  soul  erects  herself  and  finds  out  ways  and 
means  to  mitigate  or  to  bear  it. 

States  of  enthusiasm,  however,  do  not  last;  and  they  are 
not  often  to  be  desired.  The  disciples  after  the  glory  of 


HOLD  THOU   MY  HANDS  271 

Mount  Tabor  were  not  able  to  go  with  Christ  up  Calvary. 
Jane  felt  the  very  next  day  that  she  had  mentally  prom 
ised  herself  to  do  more  than  she  was  able  to  perform. 
She  could  not  forget  Cluny,  or  put  in  his  place  any  less 
selfish  object  ;  and  though  the  days  came  laden  with 
strange  things,  she  did  not  take  the  fervid  interest  in  pub 
lic  events  her  father  and  mother  did.  For  there  are  in  na 
ture  points  of  view  where  a  cot  can  blot  out  a  mountain, 
and  on  our  moral  horizons  a  personal  event  can  put  a 
national  revolution  in  the  background.  In  the  main,  she 
carried  a  loving,  steadfast  heart,  that  waited  in  patience, 
sometimes  even  in  hope  ;  but  there  were  many  days  when 
her  life  seemed  to  be  tied  in  a  knot,  and  when  fear  and 
sorrow  crept  like  a  mist  over  it.  For  there  was  nothing 
for  her  to  do;  she  could  only  wait  for  the  efforts  of  others, 
and  she  longed  rather  for  the  pang  of  personal  conflict. 
Hut  human  beings  without  these  tidal  fluctuations  are  not 
interesting  ;  people  who  always  pursue  the  "even  tenor  of 
their  way  "  leave  us  chilled  and  dissatisfied  ;  we  prefer  that 
charm  of  uncertain  expectation,  which,  with  all  its  provo 
cations,  made  Matilda  dear  and  delightful  to  Jane,  and 
Jane  perennially  interesting,  even  to  those  who  did  not 
think  as  she  thought  or  do  as  she  did. 

At  length  April  came,  and  the  bare  brown  garden  was 
glorious  with  the  gold  and  purple  of  the  crocus  flowers  and 
the  moonlight  beauty  of  the  lilies.  Birds  were  building  in 
the  hedges,  and  the  sun  shone  brightly  overhead.  The 
spirit  of  spring  was  everywhere ;  men  and  boys  went 
whistling  along  the  streets,  the  watermen  were  singing  in 
their  banres,  and  a  feeling  of  busy  content  and  security 

o  o  ./  J 

pervaded  London,  and,  indeed,  all  England. 

Suddenly,  this  atmosphere  of  cheerful  labour  and  abound 
ing  hope  was  filled  with  terror  and  with  a  cry  of  murder, 


272  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

of  possible  war  and  another  struggle  for  liberty.  A  gigantic 
plot  for  the  assassination  of  the  Protector  was  discovered — 
that  is,  it  was  discovered  to  the  people ;  Cromwell  himself 
had  been  aware  of  its  first  inception,  and  had  watched  it 
grow  to  its  shameful  maturity.  He  had  seen  the  wavering 
give  it  aid,  and  those  who  were  his  professed  friends,  strike 
hands  with  those  pledged  to  strike  him  to  the  heart.  Two 
months  previously  he  had  retired  a  number  of  foolish 
Royalist  officers,  broken  to  pieces  their  silly  plans,  and 
given  them  their  lives ;  but  this  drama  of  assassination 
came  from  Charles  Stuart  and  Prince  Rupert,  and  from  the 
headquarters  of  royalty  in  the  French  capital.  Its  pro 
gramme  in  Charles'  name  giving  "  liberty  to  any  man  what 
soever,  in  any  way,  to  destroy  the  life  of  the  base  mechanic 
fellow,  Oliver  Cromwell,"  had  been  in  Cromwell's  pos 
session  from  the  time  of  its  printing,  and  he  knew  not  only 
every  soul  connected  with  the  plot,  but  also  the  day  and 
the  hour  and  the  very  spot  in  which,  and  on  which,  his  life 
was  to  be  taken.  But  to  the  city  of  London  the  arrest  of 
forty  conspirators  in  their  midst,  was  a  shock  that  sus 
pended  for  a  time  all  their  business. 

Israel  Swaffham  was  the  first  person  called  into  the  Pro 
tector's  presence.  He  found  him  in  great  sorrow,  sorrow 
mingled  with  a  just  indignation.  Standing  by  the  long 
table  in  the  Council  Chamber,  he  struck  it  violently  with 
his  clenched  hand  as  he  pointed  out  to  Israel  the  person 
alities  of  the  conspirators.  At  one  name  he  paused,  and 
with  his  finger  upon  it,  looked  into  Israel's  face.  And  as 
iron  struck  by  iron  answers  the  blow,  so  Israel  answered 
that  sorrowful,  inquiring  gaze. 

"  It  is  a  burning  shame,"  he  said  angrily.  "  You  have 
pardoned  and  warned  and  protected  him  for  years." 

"  I    must   even   now  do  what    I    can  ;   I  must,  Israel,  for 


HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS  273 

his  father's  sake.  A  warrant  will  he  issued  to-night,  and  I 
cannot  stay  that  ;  and  personally*  I  cannot  warn  him  of  it. 
Israel,  you  remember  his  father  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  noble,  upright  man  as  ever  England  bred." 

"  You  and  he  and  I  fought  some  quarrels  out  for  our 
country  together." 

"  We  did." 

"  And  this  son  is  the  last  of  the  name.  He  played  with 
mv  boys." 

"  And  with  mine." 

"  They  went  fishing  and  skating  together." 

"  Yes  ;   I  know." 

u  One  day  I  saved  this  man's  life.  He  was  a  little  lad, 
twelve  years  or  about  it,  and  he  went  through  the  ice.  At 
some  risk  I  saved  him,  and  he  rode  home  behind  me  ;  I  can 
feel,  as  I  speak,  his  long  childish  arms  around  my  waist ; 
I  can  indeed,  Israel.  These  are  the  thorns  of  power  and 
office.  On  these  tenter-hooks  I  hang  my  very  heart  every 
day.  What  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  My  dear  lord,  do  nothing.  I  can  do  all  you  wish. 
There  needs  no  more  words  between  us.  In  two  hours 
Abel  Dewey — you  know  Abel — will  be  on  the  road. 
Nothing  stops  Dewey.  Give  him  a  good  horse  and  he 
will  so  manage  himself  and  the  beast  as  to  reach  his  jour 
ney's  end  in  twenty-four  hours." 

"  But  charge  him  about  the  good  horse,  Israel.  These 
poor  animals — they  have  almost  human  troubles  and  sick 
nesses." 

Israel  then  went  quickly  home.  He  called  Jane  and  ex 
plained  to  her  in  a  few  words  what  she  was  to  do  ;  and  by 
the  time  her  letter  to  Matilda  was  ready,  Abel  Dewey  was 
at  the  door  waiting  for  it.  Its  beginning  and  ending  was 
in  the  ordinary  strain  of  girls'  letters,  but  in  the  centre 


274  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

there  were  some  ominous  words,  rendered  remarkable  by  the 
large  script  used,  and  by  the  line  beneath  them — "  I  must 
tell  you  there  has  been  a  great  plot  against  the  Protector 
discovered.  Charles  Stuart  and  Prince  Rupert  are  the  head 
and  front  of  the  same,  but  there  is  a  report  that  Stephen  de 
Wick  is  not  behindhand,  and  my  father  did  hear  that  a 
warrant  was  out  for  Stephen,  and  hoped  he  would  reach 
French  soil,  ere  it  reached  him.  And  I  said  I  thought 
Stephen  was  in  France  ;  and  father  answered,  '  Pray  God 
so  ;  if  not,  he  cannot  be  there  too  soon  if  he  would  not 
have  his  head  off  on  Tower  Hill.' '  Then  the  letter  went 
on  to  speak  of  the  removal  of  the  Protector's  family  to 
Hampton  Court  palace,  and  of  the  signing  of  the  Dutch 
peace,  and  the  banquet  given  to  the  Dutch  Ministers.  "  I 
was  at  the  table  of  the  Lady  Protectoress,"  she  said,  "  and 
many  great  people  were  present,  but  the  Protector  seemed 
to  enjoy  most  the  company  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wheelwright, 
who  was  the  only  one  who  could  beat  the  Protector  at  foot 
ball  when  they  were  at  college  together.  Some  New 
England  Puritans  also  were  there,  and  I  heard  with  much 
pleasure  about  their  cities  in  the  wilderness ;  and  Mr. 
Thurloe  smoked  and  said  nothing  ;  and  Mr.  John  Milton 
played  some  heavenly  music,  and  lastly  we  all  sung  in  parts 
Mr.  Milton's  fine  piece,  ' The  Lord  has  been  our  dwelling- 
placed  Ladies  Mary  and  Frances  Cromwell  were  beauti 
fully  dressed,  but  the  Lady  Elizabeth  Claypole  is  the  light 
of  Whitehall." 

At  these  words  Jane  stopped.  "  Do  I  not  know,"  she 
asked  herself,  "  how  Matilda  will  have  flung  away  my  letter 
before  this  ?  And  if  not,  with  what  scorn  she  will  treat 
'the  light  of  Whitehall'?"  And  these  reflections  so 
chilled  her  memories,  that  she  hasted  to  sign  her  name 
and  close  the  letter.  Abel  Dewey  was  ready  for  it  ;  and 


HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS  275 

as  she  watched  him  ride  away,  her  thoughts  turned  to  dc 
Wick,  and  she  wondered  in  what  mood  Matilda  might  be, 
and  how  she  would  receive  the  information  sent  her.  Would 
it  be  a  surprise  ? 

"  Not  it,"  answered  Mrs.  Swaffham.  "  Matilda  knows 
all  about  the  plot  ;  that  is  most  certain  ;  but  its  discovery 
may  be  news  to  her,  and  if  so,  she  will  not  thank  you  for 
it,  Jane.  Why  will  she  burn  herself  with  lire  not  on  her 
hearthstone  ?  " 

"  Prince  Rupert  is  her  lover.  She  will  do  anything  he 
desires  her  to  do." 

"  If  he  truly  loved  her,  he  would  not  permit  her  to  be  put 
in  danger." 

"  We  do  not  know  all,  mother." 

"  That  is  the  truth,  Jane.  We  know  very  little  about 
ourselves,  let  alone  our  friends.  Doctor  Verity  would  say 
to  us,  'Judge  not ;  every  man's  shoes  must  be  made  on  his 
own  last.'  ' 

Then  Jane  smiled,  and  the  smile  filled  the  silence  like 
a  spell.  Mrs.  Swaffham  went  out  of  the  room,  and  soon 
afterwards  Doctor  Verity  came  in,  asking  cheerily  as  he  en 
tered,  "  How  is  it  with  you  to-day,  Jane  ?  " 

u  I  live  as  best  I  can,  Doctor.  I  watch  from  the  morn 
ing  to  the  midnight  for  a  footstep  that  does  not  come." 

"  There  is  a  desire  that  fulfils  itself  by  its  own  energy, 
but  this  desire  is  born  of  unfailing  Hope,  and  of  that  un 
faltering  Faith  that  can  move  mountains.  Have  you  got  it, 
Jane  r  " 

"  I  am  so  weak,  Doctor  John.      Pray  for  me." 

u  Pray  for  yourself.  Why  should  any  one  pray  for  you  ? 
Pray  for  yourself,  though  it  be  only  to  say,  with  the  old 
Acadians,  '  J-LAd  Thou  my  bands !  '  When  you  were  a 
baby,  and  were  fretful  and  restless,  then  your  mother  held 


276  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

your  hands.  That  steadied  you.  You  were  not  used  to 
the  whirling  earth,  or  you  had  that  sense  of  falling  into  the 
void  all  babies  have,  and  you  trembled  and  cried  out  in 
your  fear,  and  then  your  mother  instinctively  held  your  lit 
tle  hands  in  hers,  and  you  felt  their  clasp  strong  as  the 
everlasting  hills,  and  went  peacefully  to  sleep.  Go  to  God 
in  the  same  way,  Jane ;  you  are  only  a  little  babe  in  His 
sight  j  a  little  babe  crying  in  the  vast  void  and  darkness,  and 
trying  to  catch  hold  of  something  to  which  you  may  cling. 
Say  to  the  Father  of  your  spirit,  '  Hold  my  hands  !  ' 

And  she  rose  and  kissed  him  for  his  sweet  counsel,  and 
that  night,  and  many  a  night  afterwards,  she  fell  asleep 
whispering,  "  Hold  Thou  my  hands" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CHANCES    AT    DE    WICK 

"Friendship,  of  itself  a  holy  tie, 
Is  made  more  sacred  by  adversity." 

"A  form  of  senseless  clay — the  leavings  of  a  soul." 

WHEN  Matilda  received  Anthony  Lynn's  letter,  she  was 
immediately  certain  that  the  old  man's  conscience  troubled 
him  in  the  presence  of  death,  and  that  he  wished  to  return 
de  Wick  to  its  rightful  owners.  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady 
Jevery  were  of  the  same  opinion.  "  He  can  leave  the  es 
tate  to  you,  Matilda,"  said  Sir  Thomas;  "you  have  never 
been  '  out '  for  either  Stuart,  and  the  Commonwealth  takes 
no  action  on  private  opinions,  only  on  overt  acts.  Stephen 
is  barred,  but  Lynn  can  leave  de  Wick  to  you,  and  having 
neither  kith  nor  kin,  I  think  he  ought  to  do  so.  He  owes 
everything  to  your  father's  help  and  favour." 

This  idea  took  entire  possession  of  Matilda  ;  she  thought 
it  a  duty  to  her  family  to  answer  the  request  of  Anthony 
Lynn  favourably.  It  had  been  a  surprise  to  her,  and  there 
were  more  surprises  to  follow  it.  As  soon  as  Lady  Jevery 
and  her  niece  arrived  at  the  gates  of  de  Wick,  they  were 
confronted  with  a  remarkable  change  in  the  appearance  of 
the  place.  The  great  iron  gates  had  been  painted  and  re- 
hung ;  the  stone  griffins  that  ornamented  the  posts  had  felt 
the  stone-cutter's  chisel  in  all  their  parts,  and  been  restored 
to  their  proper  shape  and  position.  The  wide  walks  were 


?.;8  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

free  of  weeds,  freshly  graveled  and  raked,  and  the  grass  of 
the  chase  was  in  perfect  order.  There  were  plenty  of  deer, 
also,  though  Matilda  knew  well  all  the  deer  had  disappeared 
long  before  her  father's  death. 

As  they  came  close  to  the  house,  they  saw  the  flower 
garden  aglow  with  spring  flowers  and  in  such  fine  order  as 
would  have  satisfied  even  Sir  Thomas  Jevery.  Anthony 
Lynn  stood  at  the  door  to  meet  them.  He  looked  ill  and 
frail,  but  hardly  like  death,  and  when  he  witnessed  the  de 
light  of  the  ladies  at  the  changes  made  in  de  Wick,  his  face 
grew  almost  young  in  its  pleasure.  Every  room  in  the 
house  was  a  fres-h  surprise  ;  for  though  all  that  was  vener 
able  through  age  or  family  association,  and'  all  that  was 
valuable  and  beautiful  had  been  preserved,  yet  so  much  of 
modern  splendour  and  worth  had  been  mingled  with  the  old 
that  the  rooms  were  apparently  newly  furnished.  Magnifi 
cent  draperies  of  velvet,  chairs  covered  with  Spanish  leather 
stamped  in  gold,  carpets  of  richest  quality,  pictures  by  rare 
masters,  Venetian  mirrors  and  glassware,  all  that  a  luxurious 
and  lavish  taste  could  imagine  and  desire,  were  gathered 
with  fitting  and  generous  profusion  in  the  ancient  rooms  of 
de  Wick.  Anthony  Lynn  accompanied  the  ladies  through 
the  house,  finding  a  fresh  and  continual  joy  in  their  excla 
mations  of  delight ;  and  Matilda,  filled  with  astonishment 
at  the  exquisite  daintiness  of  the  suite  called  the  "  Lady 
Matilda's  Rooms,"  said  enthusiastically, 

"  Mr.  Lynn,  no  man  could  better  deserve  to  be  lord  of 
de  Wick  than  you.  And  seeing  that  the  de  Wicks  had  to 
leave  their  ancient  home,  I  am  glad  it  has  fallen  to  you — 
and  I  am  sure  my  father  is  glad,  also." 

Then  the  old  man  burst  into  that  thin,  cold  passion  of 
weeping  so  significant  of  age,  and  so  pitiful  in  its  helpless 
ness.  "  It  is  your  father's  doing,  Lady  Matilda,"  he  sobbed. 


CHANGES  AT'  DE  WICK  279 

"  It  is  my  dear  lord's  wisdom.  Pardon  me  now.  This  even 
ing  I  will  tell  you  all."  He  went  away  with  these  words, 
and  the  two  women  looked  at  each  other  in  amazement. 

In  the  evening  he  came  to  them.  They  were  sitting  by 
the  fire  in  the  now  magnificently  furnished  great  salon,  and 
he  asked  permission  to  place  his  chair  between  them.  Ma 
tilda  made  room  for  him,  and  when  he  had  sat  down  and 
placed  his  terribly  thin  hand  on  its  arm,  she  laid  her  lovely 
young  hand  upon  his  ;  and  he  looked  into  her  face  with 
that  adoring  affection  which  is  often  seen  in  the  eyes  of  a 
favourite  mastiff. 

u  When  these  dreadful  wars  first  began,"  he  said,  "  Earl 
de  Wick  foresaw  their  ending  ;  and  after  Marston  Moor  he 
said  to  me,  '  I  know  this  man,  Oliver  Cromwell,  and  there 
is  none  that  will  stand  against  him.  It  is  my  duty  to  save 
de  Wick  ;  will  you  help  me  ?  '  And  I  said  to  him,  '  My 
dear  lord,  I  owe  you  all  I  am,  and  all  I  have.'  Then  we 
had  many  long  talks,  and  it  was  agreed  that  I  should  join 
the  Puritan  party,  that  I  should  pretend  a  disapproval  of 
the  Earl  and  his  ways — but  a  disapproval  tempered  with 
regret — so  that  men  might  not  suspect  my  opposition.  The 
King  was  even  then  sending  to  de  Wick  for  money,  and  I 
was  supposed  to  supply  it  on  the  de  Wick  filver  and  valu 
ables.  In  reality,  the  Earl  sent  these  things  to  my  care, 
and  he  himself  gave  the  gold.  For  in  those  years  he  had 
much  specie,  the  result  of  his  trading  partnership  with  Sir 
Thomas  Jevery.  The  silver,  the  old  pictures,  the  hue 
tapestries,  and  Eastern  pottery  all  came  to  my  home  in  St. 
Ives.  People  said  unkind  things  of  me,  but  my  dear  lord 
loved  me.  Then  there  came  a  time  when  de  Wick  was 
bare,  and  the  King  still  wanted  money.  And  the  Earl 
promised  to  borrow  from  me  one  thousand  pounds,  in  con 
sideration  of  letters  royal  making  the  Lady  Matilda  Coun- 


28o  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

tess  de  Wick  in  her  own  right,  if  her  brother  Stephen 
had  no  heirs  of  his  body.  His  Majesty  being  in  great 
straits,  readily  granted  the  request,  and  the  proper  papers 
were  made.  And  I  looked  well  to  it  that  no  necessary  for 
mality  was  lacking,  and  the  thousand  pounds  were  paid,  not 
by  me,  but  by  Earl  de  Wick.  His  store  was  then  gone, 
but  he  had  secured  the  succession  of  de  Wick  in  his  own 
blood  and  name ;  for  you  will  see,  my  dear  lady,  if  ever 
you  have  to  assume  this  title,  when  you  marry,  your  hus 
band  must  take  the  name  of  de  Wick." 

"  But  if  I  never  marry  any  one  ? " 

"  Oh,  that  is  an  impossible  contingency  !  You  would 
owe  that  debt  to  all  the  de  Wicks  that  ever  lived  and  died  ; 
and  you  would  pay  it,  whether  you  liked  to,  or  not." 

"Yes,  I  should,"  she  answered  promptly. 

"  Here  are  the  papers  relating  to  your  succession,"  he 
continued  ;  "  and  here  are  those  relating  to  my  trust  in  the 
matter  of  the  de  Wick  silver  and  valuables.  They  are  all 
now  in  their  proper  places,  and  when  I  go  to  my  old  friend, 
I  can  tell  him  so.  When  he  was  dying,  he  said  to  me, 
c  Anthony,  the  next  move  will  be  the  sale  of  de  Wick  house 
and  lands.  Stephen  is  already  outcast,  but  I  have  given 
you  the  money  to  buy  it.  Let  no  one  outbid  you.  Keep 
it  in  your  own  care  until  my  King  comes  back  to  his  throne, 
and  my  children  to  their  home.'  I  bought  de  Wick  for 
seven  hundred  pounds  less  than  the  money  entrusted  to  me 
for  its  purchase.  The  balance  is  here  at  your  hand.  The 
only  contingency  not  provided  for,  was  my  death,  and  as  I 
know  that  is  speedily  certain,  I  wish  your  promise  that 
these  papers  be  placed  in  Sir  Thomas  Jevery's  charge.  I 
know  it  is  what  my  lord  would  advise." 

Matilda  took  the  papers  silently.  Her  father's  loving 
thoughtfulness  and  Anthony's  loving  fidelity,  affected  her 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  28 r 

deeply.  Lady  Jevery  was  weeping,  and  the  old  man  him 
self  raised  a  face  wet  with  tears  to  Matilda.  She  stooped 
and  kissed  him.  She  promised  all  he  asked.  "  But,"  she 
added,  "you  have  made  no  mention  of  the  refurnishing  of 
the  house,  nor  yet  of  the  money  that  must  have  been  spent 
on  the  garden  and  chase." 

u  That  outlay  was  my  own  little  pleasure,"  he  answered. 
"  It  has  made  the  long,  lonely  months  here  full  of  hope.  I 
always  thought  I  knew  how  to  make  a  great  house  look  like 
a  great  house  should  look  ;  "  and  with  pardonable  pride  he 
added,  "  I  think  you  both  liked  it." 

He  found  in  their  hearty  admiration  all  the  recompense 
he  wished.  "  You  v/ill  let  me  die  here  ?  "  he  asked, 
"  here,  where  my  old  friend  died  ?  you  will  let  rne  sit  in  his 
chair,  and  die  in  his  bed  ?  It  is  all  I  ask,  unless  you  will 
stav  awhile  and  brighten  my  last  days." 

The  favours  asked  were  affectionately  granted,  and  Ma 
tilda  virtually  became  mistress  of  her  old  home.  Anthony 
was  seldom  seen,  but  Stephen  de  Wick  came  and  went, 
and  brought  with  him  men  whose  names  were  not  spoken, 
and  whose  business  meant  much  more  than  the  packs  of 
cards  which  appeared  to  be  all  they  cared  for.  In  fact, 
Matilda  was  soon  neck  deep  in  Prince  Rupert's  plot,  and 
there  was  no  doubt  in  her  mind  that  the  month  of  May 
would  end  the  life  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  and  brino;  the  Kino- 

O  O 

to  his  throne  and  the  de  Wicks  to  their  earldom. 

She  was  sitting,  one  afternoon,  talking  to  Stephen  about 
advices  he  had  just  received  from  his  confederates  in  Lon 
don,  when  a  servant  entered.  "  My  lady,"  he  said,  "here 
has  come  a  man  with  a  letter,  which  he  will  deliver  to  none 
but  you."  Matilda's  first  thought  was,  "  It  is  some  pri 
vate  word  from  Rupert ;  "  and  she  ordered  the  messenger 
to  her  presence  at  once.  When  she  saw  it  was  jane's 


282  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

writing,  she  was  much  annoyed.  "  I  will  wager  it  is  some 
bad  news,  or  it  had  not  come  through  this  gate,"  she  said  ; 
and  she  opened  the  letter  with  angry  reluctance.  Hastily 
she  glanced  over  the  lines,  until  she  came  to  the  discovery 
of  the  plot. 

"  Oh,  indeed,  here  is  the  burden  of  Jane  Swaffham  !  " 
she  cried  in  a  passion.  "  We  are  discovered.  All  is 
known — all  has  been  known  from  the  very  first.  Stephen, 
you  are  in  instant  danger.  You  must  away  at  once." 

"  I  do  not  believe  it." 

"  Fool !  How  else  could  Jane  have  sent  this  word  ? 
She  says  Cromwell  has  known  it  from  its  beginning.  The 
man  has  a  devil ;  who  can  circumvent  him  ?  You  must 
fly  at  once.  The  warrant  for  your  arrest  will  doubtless 
come  by  to-night's  mail.  My  God,  are  our  troubles  never 
to  cease  ?  Is  everything  not  countersigned  by  Cromwell  to 
be  a  failure  ?  It  is  unendurable  !  " 

"  Everything  with  which  Prince  Rupert  meddles  is  un 
fortunate,"  answered  Stephen.  "  He  assigns  all  he  touches 
with  failure.  I  said  so  from  the  beginning.  He  is,  and 
was,  the  King's  evil  genius." 

"•  You  lie  !  You  lie  downright,  Stephen  !  But  this  is 
no  time  for  quarreling.  You  must  away,  and  that  at 
once." 

"  And,  pray,  how  ?  or  where  ?  I  will  not  run.  I  will 
stand  or  fall  with  the  rest." 

"  What  drivel,  what  nonsensical  bombast  are  you  talk 
ing  ?  It  is  '  I,'  '  I '  and  still  '  I '  with  you.  Have  you  no 
consideration  for  others — for  uncle  and  aunt,  and  for  poor, 
dying  Anthony  ?  Think  of  all  he  has  done,  and  at  least  let 
him  go  in  the  belief  that  he  has  saved  de  Wick." 

"  It  is  better  to  stand  together." 

"  It   is   already — I'll   wager  that    much — every   man    for 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  283 

himself.  You  must  take  the  North  Road  to  Hull ;  you  are 
sure  of  a  ship  there." 

"  And  how  the  devil,  sister,  am  I  to  reach  Hull  ?  " 

"  Take  the  sorrel  horse  ;  if  any  one  sees  you,  you  are 
for  Squire  Mason's  ;  "  then  hastily  unlocking  a  drawer,  she 
brought  a  little  bag  of  gold  and  put  it  in  his  hand.  "  There 
is  enough  and  to  spare  for  your  road  to  Paris."  He  flung 
the  gold  from  him,  and  Matilda  clasping  her  hands  frantic 
ally,  cried  "  My  God,  Stephen,  are  you  not  going  ?  " 

"  Storm  your  utmost,  A/Iatilda.  I  care  not  a  rap ;  I  will 
not  budge  from  this  spot." 

"  But  you  must  go  !  Stephen,  Stephen,  for  my  sake," 
and  she  burst  into  passionate  tears  and  sobs. 

"  Be  quiet,  Matilda.  Women's  counsel  is  always  un 
lucky,  but  I  will  run,  if  you  say  so.  I  feel  like  an  ever 
lasting  scoundrel  to  do  it." 

"  They  will  all  run — if  they  can.  There  is  a  little  time 
yet  in  your  favour.  The  mail-rider  does  not  pass  here  till 
eight  o'clock,  or  after.  You  have  four  or  five  hours' 
grace." 

He  rose  as  she  spoke,  and  she  kissed  him  with  passion 
ate  tenderness.  When  he  left  the  room,  she  ran  to  the 
roof  of  the  house  to  watch  which  road  he  took.  If  he  went 
northward,  he  was  for  Hull,  and  bent  on  saving  his  life  ; 
but  if  he  went  south,  he  was  for  London,  and  would  doubt 
less  have  the  fate  on  Tower  Hill  he  had  been  warned 
against.  In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  she  saw  him  riding 
at  great  speed  northward,  and  after  watching  him  until  he 
became  a  speck  on  the  horizon,  she  went  back  to  her 
room,  and  she  was  weeping  bitterly  though  quite  uncon 
scious  of  it. 

Her  first  act  was  to  tear  Jane's  letter  into  minute  pieces. 
She  did  it  with  an  inconceivable  passion.  Every  shred  of 


284  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

the  paper  fluttered  into  the  fire  as  if  in  conscious  suffering, 
and  when  the  last  particle  was  consumed,  she  stood  with 
her  folded  hand  on  her  mouth,  looking  at  the  white  ashy 
films,  and  considering  what  next  to  do.  Her  face  was  set 
and  frowning;  she  was  summoning  to  her  aid,  by  the  very 
intensity  of  her  feeling,  whatever  power  she  possessed  to 
counsel  her  perplexity. 

Suddenly  her  face  lightened ;  she  smiled,  nodded  her 
handsome  head  with  satisfaction,  and  then  in  a  leisurely 
manner  put  on  her  garden  hat  and  walked  to  the  stables. 
She  was  a  daily  visitor  there,  and  her  appearance  caused  no 
surprise.  She  went  at  once  to  a  young  man  known  to  be 
Stephen  de  Wick's  constant  attendant  whenever  he  was  in 
the  neighbourhood.  She  knew  he  could  be  relied  on,  and 
as  they  stood  together  by  Matilda's  Barbary  mare,  she  said 
with  the  critical  air  of  one  talking  about  a  favourite  animal, 
"  Yupon,  can  you  help  in  a  matter  for  Earl  Stephen  ? 
It  is  life  or  death,  Yupon,  and  I  know  of  no  one  but  you 
to  come  to — also,  there  will  be  a  few  gold  pieces." 

41  With  or  without  gold,  my  lady,  I  am  your  servant. 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"You  know  the  three  large  oak  trees,  just  beyond  the 
boundary  of  de  Wick  ?  " 

"  I  know  them  well,  my  lady." 

"  Be  under  the  oaks  to-night,  at  eight  o'clock.  Have 
with  you  a  lanthorn  and  a  coil  of  strong  rope.  You  will 
see  Earl  de  Wick  there,  and  when  he  speaks,  join  him  on 
the  instant.  Can  he  rely  on  you  ?  " 

"  By  my  soul,  he  can ;  even  to  blood-letting." 

"  Be  this  our  bargain  then.  Eight  o'clock — no  later. 
And  on  my  honour,  I  promise,  there  shall  no  guilt  of  blood 
letting  stick  to  your  hands." 

"  Let  me  perish,  if  I  am  not  there." 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  285 

All  the  man's  words  had  the  savour  of  a  strong,  faithful 
spirit,  and  Matilda  went  back  to  her  room  satisfied.  The 
principal  part  of  her  plan  for  Stephen's  safety  was  accom 
plished  ;  she  had  no  doubts  now  as  to  its  prosperous  carry 
ing  out.  So  she  lay  down  and  tried  to  compose  herself; 
and  as  the  day  darkened  and  the  time  for  action  came,  she 
found  a  strength  and  calmness  that  was  sufficient.  With 
out  a  sign  of  anxiety  in  her  heart,  she  eat  her  evening  meal 
with  her  aunt,  and  then  said, 

"  I  am  going  to  dismiss  Delia,  go  to  bed  early,  and  sleep 
a  headache  away."  Lady  Jevery  said  she  was  "  in  the 
same  mind  " ;  and  this  circumstance,  being  much  in  Ma 
tilda's  favour,  gave  her  that  satisfactory  feeling  of  u  having 
the  signs  favourable,"  which  we  all  appreciate  when  we 
intend  important  work. 

About  seven  o'clock  she  went  to  her  brother's  room,  and 
brought  away  a  suit  of  his  clothing;  and  when  she  had 
dressed  herself  in  it,  and  put  a  pistol  and  hunting-knife  in 
her  belt,  and  a  large  plumed  hat  on  her  head,  she  looked  in 
the  mirror  with  the  utmost  satisfaction.  She  was  her 
brother's  double  ;  quite  his  height,  and  singularly  like  him 
in  carriage,  face  and  manner.  Of  this  resemblance  she 
had  soon  a  very  convincing  proof,  for  as  she  passed  through 
the  hall,  her  own  maid  Delia  curtsied  to  her,  and  said, 
"  My  lady  is  sick  to-night,  sir,  and  will  not  be  disturbed." 
And  Matilda  bowed  and  passed  on.  As  for  the  other  serv 
ants,  in  and  out  of  the  house,  they  knew  they  were  to  have 
eyes  and  see  not ;  and  ears,  and  hear  not.  Therefore, 
though  several  met,  as  they  supposed,  the  young  Earl  leav 
ing  the  house,  there  was  no  further  recognition  of  the  fact 
among  themselves,  than  a  lifting  of  the  eyebrows,  or  some 
enigmatical  remark,  only  to  be  understood  by  those  en  rap 
port  with  the  circumstances. 


286  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Matilda  walked  quickly  through  the  garden,  and  still  more 
quickly  through  the  lonely  chase.  She  was  not  afraid  of 
the  thing  she  was  going  to  do,  but  she  was  afraid  of  the 
toads  and  snails,  and  the  unknown  deer  and  dogs  that 
thought  the  wooded  space  their  own.  But  without  molesta 
tion  she  arrived  at  the  three  oaks.  Yupon  Slade  was  al 
ready  there.  He  showed  her  the  light  of  the  lanthorn  for 
a  moment,  and  then  his  black-cloaked  figure  and  masked 
face  blended  indeterminately  with  the  darkness  around  him. 
Eor  nearly  an  hour  Matilda  walked  up  and  down  the  road, 
keeping  well  within  call  of  her  companion.  But  about 
nine  o'clock  the  sound  of  a  horse  coming  at  an  easy  gallop 
was  heard,  and  Yupon  was  softly  called.  He  was  at  Ma 
tilda's  side  as  the  rider  came  near  them.  She  advanced  to 
meet  him,  calling  pleasantly,  "  Miles  Watson,  a  word,  if  it 
please  you." 

The  voice  was  familiar  and  kind,  and  Miles  drew  rein 
and  asked,  "  Who  calls  me  ?  I  am  on  the  Common 
wealth's  business,  and  cannot  be  delayed." 

Then  Matilda,  pointing  the  pistol  in  his  face  said,  "  You 
must  light  from  your  horse,  Miles  Watson."  Miles  tried 
then  to  proceed,  but  Yupon  had  whispered  to  the  animal 
he  rode,  and  the  creature  took  no  notice  of  his  rider's  per 
suasions.  The  pistol  was  dangerously  near;  Yupon's 
rough  order  "  to  tumble "  was  not  unaccorripanied  by 
threats,  and  Watson  thought  it  best  to  obey  qutody,  where 
he  could  not  resist.  When  Yupon  had  bound  him  se 
curely,  Matilda  took  the  lanthorn,  and  drawing  from  her 
girdle  the  sharp  hunting-knife,  she  cut  open  the  leathern 
mail-bag,  and  turned  the  light  upon  its  contents.  The 
small  private  letters  she  hardly  noticed,  but  there  were 
three  ominous-looking  papers  closed  with  large  red  seals, 
and  these  she  instantly  seized.  They  were  all  directed  to 


"THREE  OMINOUS-LOOKING  PAPERS. 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  287 

the  Sheriff  of  Ely  ;  and  she  felt  sure  they  were  the  author 
ity  for  Stephen's  arrest.  She  took  possession  of  the  whole 
three,  bade  Yupon  set  loose  the  horse,  and  leaving  the  other 
contents  of  the  rifled  mail-bag  on  the  grass  by  the  side  of 
the  bound  carrier,  she  put  into  her  companion's  hand  the 
promised  gold  pieces,  and  then  slipped  away  into  the  shad 
ows  and  darkness  of  de  Wick  chase. 

Once  within  its  boundaries  she  ran  like  a  deer  till  she 
reached  the  house.  All  was  shut  and  silent,  but  she  was 
prepared  for  this  emergency.  She  had  a  key  to  her  private 
rooms,  and  she  reached  them  without  sight  or  sound  that 
could  betray  her.  Indeed,  she  felt  reasonably  certain  that 
neither  Yupon  nor  the  mail-rider  had  suspected  her  dis 
guise.  When  she  put  the  gold  in  Yupon's  hand  he  had 
said  quite  naturally,  "Thanks  to  you,  Earl  Stephen;"  and 
twice  over  Miles  Watson  vowed,  "  I  shall  be  equal  to  you 
yet,  Earl  de  Wick.  I  know  who  you  be,  Earl  de  Wick." 

There  was  still  fire  on  her  hearth,  and  she  pushed  the 
dying  logs  together,  and  lit  a  candle  by  their  blaze.  Then 
she  opened  one  of  the  letters.  It  was  a  warrant  for  the  ar 
rest  of  Squire  Mason.  The  next  opened  was  a  warrant  for 
the  arrest  of  Lord  Frederick  Blythe  ;  but  the  third  was, 
truly  enough,  the  warrant  for  the  arrest  of  Stephen  de  Wick, 
for  treason  against  the  Commonwealth  and  conspiracy 
against  the  life  of  the  Protector.  She  drew  her  mouth 
tightly,  and  tore  the  whole  three  warrants  across,  and  threw 
them  into  the  flames.  When  they  were  ashes,  she  turned 
quickly,  divested  herself  of  her  brother's  clothing,  and  put 
on  her  own  garments.  Then  she  carried  Stephen's  suit  to 
his  room,  and  afterwards  put  out  the  candle  and  went  to 
bed. 

But  it  was  dawn  before  she  could  sleep.  She  lay  calcu 
lating  the  time  that  it  would  take  to  get  fresh  warrants,  and 


288  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

her  conclusion  was,  "  If  Stephen  have  the  least  bit  of  good 
fortune,  he  will  be  out  of  danger,  before  they  know  in  Lon 
don  that  their  lying  warrants  are  beyond  looking  after. 
And  I  am  glad  I  have  done  Mason  and  Blythe  a  good 
turn.  At  dawn  I  will  send  them  a  message  they  will  under 
stand.  Oh,  indeed,  Mr.  Cromwell,  if  you  can  spy,  others 
can  spy  also  !  "  She  was  a  little  troubled  when  she  thought 
of  her  aunt  and  Anthony  Lynn.  "But,  Lord  !  "  she  said 
audibly,  "  it  is  not  time  yet  to  face  the  question  ;  I  shall  be 
ready  for  it  when  it  comes." 

She  did  not  anticipate  this  trial  for  some  days.  u  They 
will  begin  to  wonder  in  two  days  what  the  sheriff  has  done 
in  the  matter;  in  three  days  they  may  write  to  ask;  about 
the  fifth  day  he  may  let  them  know  he  never  got  the  war 
rants  ;  then  there  will  be  new  warrants  to  make  out,  and  to 
send,  and  all  this  net  spread  in  the  sight  of  the  birds,  and 
the  birds  flown.  In  all  conscience,  I  may  take  my  ease  for 
one  clear  week — then — perhaps  I  may  be  in  London.  I 
will  consider  of  it." 

Her  plan  had,  however,  been  too  hastily  formed  and  car 
ried  out  to  admit  of  a  thorough  consideration,  and  in  her 
hurry  of  rifling  the  mail,  it  had  not  occurred  to  her  that  one 
of  those  small,  unimportant-looking  letters  might  also  be  for 
the  sheriff.  This  in  fact  was  the  case.  When  daylight 
brought  rescue  to  the  bound  carrier,  the  rejected  letters 
were  gathered  up,  and  one  of  them  was  a  letter  of  instruc 
tions  regarding  the  three  warrants  to  be  served.  It  directed 
the  sheriff  to  take  Mason  and  Blythe  to  Ely  for  trial,  but 
to  bring  Stephen  de  Wick  to  the  Tower  of  London. 

Now  the  overtopping  desire  and  ambition  of  Sheriff 
Brownley's  heart  was  to  visit  London  officially  ;  and  this 
shameful  theft  had  at  least  put  a  stay  on  the  golden  oppor 
tunity  of  going  there  with  a  prisoner  of  such  high  rank  and 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  289 

high  crimes  as  Stephen  cle  Wick.  He  was  in  a  passion  of 
disappointment,  and  hastily  securing  a  warrant  to  arrest 
Stephen  de  Wick  for  mail  robbery,  he  went  to  de  Wick  to 
serve  it. 

For  no  one  had  a  doubt  as  to  the  culprit.  The  mail- 
rider  swore  positively  that  it  was  Stephen  de  Wick.  "  He 
minced  and  mouthed  his  words,"  he  said,  "  but  I  knew  his 
face  and  figure,  and  also  the  scarlet  beaver  with  the  white 
plumes  with  which  he  joys  to  affront  the  decent  men  and 
women  of  Ely  ;  yes,  and  his  doublet,  I  saw  its  white  slashings 
and  white  cords  and  tassels.  Till  I  die,  I  will  swear  it  was 
Stephen  de  Wick }  he,  and  no  other,  except  Yupon  Slade, 
or  I  am  not  knowing  Slade's  way  with  horses.  He  whis 
pered  a  word  to  my  beast,  and  the  creature  planted  his  fore 
feet  like  a  rock  ;  no  one  but  Yupon  or  his  gypsy  kin  can 
do  that.  And  Slade  has  been  seen  often  with  de  Wick  ; 
moreover,  he  has  work  in  Anthony  Lynn's  stables — and  as 
for  Anthony  Lynn  God  only  knows  the  colour  of  his 
thoughts." 

It  was  Delia  who,  about  the  noon  hour,  came  flying  into 
her  lady's  presence  with  the  news  that  the  sheriff  was  in 
the  stables  talking  to  Yupon  Slade,  and  that  he  had  two 
constables  with  him. 

"  What  do  they  want,  Delia  ?  I  suppose  I  must  say 
whom  do  they  want  ?  Is  it  Mr.  Lynn,  or  Lady  Jevery,  or 
myself  ?  " 

"•  I  think  it  will  be  Earl  de  Wick  they  are  after,  my 
lady." 

"•  'Tis  most  likely.  Bid  them  to  come  in  and  find  Earl 
de  Wick.  Give  me  my  blue  velvet  gown,  Delia,  the  one 
with  the  silver  trimmings."  Silently  she  assumed  this 
splendid  garment,  and  then  descended  to  the  main  salon  of 
the  house.  Her  great  beauty,  her  majestic  presence,  her 


290  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

royal  clothing  produced  an  instant  impression.  The 
sheriff — hatted  before  Anthony  Lynn — bared  his  head  as 
she  approached.  He  explained  to  her  his  visit,  the  robbery 
committed,  the  certainty  that  Stephen  de  Wick  was  the 
criminal,  and  the  necessity  he  was  under  to  make  a  search 
of  the  house  for  him.  She  listened  with  disdainful  apathy. 

"  Mr.  Lynn,"  she  said,  tenderly  placing  her  hand  on  his 
shoulder ;  "  let  the  men  search  your  house.  Let  them 
search  even  my  private  rooms.  They  will  find  nothing 
worse  than  themselves  anywhere.  As  for  Earl  de  Wick, 
he  is  not  in  England  at  all." 

The  old  man  gave  a  gasp  of  relief  and  remained  silent. 
It  was  evident  that  he  was  suffering;,  and  Matilda  felt  a 

CJ  ' 

great  resentment  towards  the  intruders.  "  Why  do  you 
not  go  about  your  business?"  she  asked  scornfully. 
u  Under  the  King,  an  Englishman's  house  was  his  castle; 
but  now — now,  no  one  is  safe  whom  you  choose  to  accuse. 
Go  !  "  she  said  with  an  imperious  movement,  "  but  Mr. 
Lynn's  steward  must  go  with  you.  You  may  be  officers 
of  the  law — who  knows  ? — and  you  may  be  thieves." 

"  Anthony  Lynn  knows  who  we  be,"  answered  the 
sheriff  angrily.  "  We  be  here  on  our  duty — honest  men 
all  of  us  ;  say  so,  Anthony." 

"  You  say  it,"  replied  Lynn  feebly. 

"  And  the  lady  must  say  it." 

"  Go  about  your  business,"  interrupted  Matilda  loftily. 
"It  is  not  your  business  to  browbeat  Mr.  Lynn  and 
myself." 

"  Thieves,  indeed  !  Stephen  de  Wick  is  the  thief.  He 
robbed  the  mail  at  nine  o'clock,  last  night." 

"  You  lie  !  You  lie  damnably  !  "  answered  Aiatilda. 
"  Earl  de  Wick  was  miles  and  miles  away  from  de  Wick 
at  nine  o'clock  last  night."  Then  she  bent  over  Anthony 


CHANGP;S  AT  DE  WICK  29  r 

Lynn,  and  with  an  intolerable  scorn  was  deaf  and  dumb 
and  blind  to  the  sheriff  and  his  companions.  Only  when 
the  steward  entered,  did  she  appear  to  be  aware  of  their 
presence.  u  Benson,"  she  said,  "  you  will  permit  these 
men  to  search  every  room  and  closet,  and  pantry  and  mouse 
hole  for  the  Earl.  And  you  will  see  that  they  touch 
neither  gold  nor  silver,  pottery  nor  picture,  or  anything 
whatever — but  Earl  de  Wick.  They  may  take  the  Earl — 
if  they  can  find  him." 

The  men  were  about  an  hour  making;  their  search,  and 

O  ' 

during  this  interval  Lady  Jevery  had  been  summoned,  and 
Anthony  had  received  the  stimulating  drug  on  which  he 
relied.  But  he  was  very  ill ;  and  Lady  Jevery,  who  adored 
her  nephew,  was  weeping  and  full  of  anxious  terror.  Ma 
tilda  vainly  assured  her  Stephen  was  safe.  She  insisted 
on  doubting  this  statement. 

"  You  thought  he  went  north  at  four  o'clock,  but  I  feel 
sure  he  only  went  as  far  as  Blythe.  No  one  but  Stephen 
would  have  dared  to  commit  such  a  crime  as  was  com 
mitted  at  nine  o'clock.  But  'tis  most  like  him  and  Fred 
erick  Blythe  ;  and  they  will  be  caught,  I  feel  sure  they 
will." 

"  They  will  not  be  caught,  aunt.  And  if  it  were  Stephen 
and  Blythe,  they  did  right.  Who  would  not  steal  a  war 
rant  for  his  own  beheading,  if  he  could  ?  I  sent  a  mes 
sage  to  Blythe  and  Mason  at  dawn  this  morning,  and  they 
are  far  away  by  this  time." 

At  this  point  the  sheriff  reentered  the  room.  He  was  in 
a  vile  temper,  and  did  not  scruple  to  exercise  it.  "  The 
man  has  gone,"  he  said  to  Anthony  Lynn  ;  "  and  I  believe 
you  know  all  about  the  affair." 

"About  what  affair?      The  mail  robbery  ?" 

"Just    that.       What    are   you    doing    with   profane   and 


292  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

wicked  malignants  in  your  house  ?  I  would  like  to  know 
that,  Anthony  Lynn." 

"  To  the  bottomless  pit  with  your  liking,"  answered 
Anthony  shaking  from  head  to  feet  with  passion.  "  What 
have  you  to  do  with  me  and  my  friends  ?  This  is  my 
house,  not  yours." 

"  You  are  none  of  Cromwell's  friend.  Many  people 
beside  me  say  that  of  you." 

"  I  am  glad  they  do  me  so  much  honour.  Cromwell  ! 
Who  is  Cromwell  ?  A  man  to  joy  the  devil.  No,  I  am 
not  his  friend  !  "  and  with  a  radiant  smile — "  I  thank  my 
Maker  for  it." 

He  spoke  with  increasing  difficulty,  scarcely  above  a 
whisper,  though  he  had  risen  to  his  feet,  and  believed  him 
self  to  have  the  strong,  resounding  voice  of  his  healthy 
manhood.  The  sheriff  turned  to  his  attendants  — 

"You  hear  the  traitor!"  he  cried.  "You  heard 
Anthony  Lynn  turn  his  back  on  himself!  I  knew  him 
always  for  a  black  heart  and  a  double  tongue.  We  must 
have  a  warrant  for  him,  and  that  at  once." 

"Fool!"  said  the  trembling,  tottering  old  man,  with  a 
superhuman  scorn,  as  his  clay-like  face  suddenly  flamed 
into  its  last  colour.  "  Warrant  !  warrant  !  Oliver  Crom 
well  has  no  warrant  to  fit  my  name.  I  go  now  on  the 
warrant  of  the  King  of  kings.  Put  me  in  the  deepest  dun 
geon,  His  habeas  corpus  sets  me  free  of  you.  Matilda  ! 
Stephen  !  I  am  going  to  my  dear  lord — to  my  dear  King — 
to  my  dear  God  !  "  and  as  a  strong  man  shakes  off  a  use 
less  garment,  so  Anthony  Lynn  dropped  his  body,  and  in 
that  moment  his  spirit  flew  away  further  than  thought  could 
follow  it. 

"  What  a  villain  !  "   cried  the  sheriff. 

"  Villain,  in  your  face,"  answered   Matilda  passionately. 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  293 

"  Out  of  the  presence  of  holy  death  !  You  are  not  fit  to 
stand  by  his  dead  body  !  Go,  on  this  instant  !  Sure,  if  you 
do  not,  there  are  those  who  will  make  you  !  " 

With  these  words  she  cried  out  for  her  servants  in  a  voice 
full  of  horror  and  grief,  and  the  first  person  to  answer  her 
cry  was  Cymlin  Swafrham.  He  came  in  like  some  angry 
young  god,  his  ruddy  face  and  blazing  eyes  breathing  venge 
ful  inquiry.  Matilda  went  to  his  side,  clung  to  his  arm, 
pointed  to  the  dead  man  on  the  hearth  and  the  domineering 
figure  of  the  sheriff  above  it,  and  cried,  "  Cymlin,  Cymlin, 
send  him  away  !  Oh,  'twas  most  unmercifully  done  !  " 

"Sir,"  said  Cymlin,  "you  exceed  your  warrant.  Have 
you  arrested  Stephen  de  Wick  ?  " 

"The  man  has  run,  Mr.  SwafFham,  and  madame  there 
knows  it." 

"  You  have  nothing  to  do  with  Lady  Matilda.  If  the 
house  has  been  searched,  your  business  here  is  finished. 
You  can  go." 

"  Mr.  SwafFham,  if  you  don't  know,  you  ought  to  be  told, 
that  Anthony  Lynn — just  dead  and  gone — was  a  double- 
dyed  Royalist  scoundrel ;  and  I  and  my  men  here  will  swear 
to  it.  He  confessed  it,  joyed  himself  in  the  death  struggle 
against  the  Lord  Protector;  we  all  heard  the  man's  own 
words;  "  and  the  sheriff  touched  with  the  point  of  his  boot, 
the  lifeless  body  of  Anthony  Lynn. 

"  Touch  oft  !  "  cried  Matilda.  "  How  dare  you  boot  the 
dead  ?  You  infinite  scoundrel  !  " 

"  Sheriff,  your  duty  is  done.  It  were  well  you  left  here, 
and  permitted  the  dead  to  have  his  rights." 

"  He  is  a  traitor  !      A  King's  man  !      A  lying  Puritan  !  " 

"  He  is  nothing  at  all  to  us,  or  to  the  world,  now.  To 
his  Master  above  he  will  stand  or  fall ;  not  to  you  or  me,  or 
even  to  the  law  of  England." 


294  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Then  he  turned  to  Matilda  and  led  her  to  a  sofa,  and 
comforted  her;  and  the  men-servants  came  and  took  away 
the  dead  body  and  laid  it,  as  Anthony  wished,  on  his  old 
master's  bed.  Lady  Jevery  went  weeping  to  her  room,  and 
the  sound  of  lamentation  and  of  sorrow  passed  up  and  down 
the  fine  stairway,  and  filled  the  handsome  rooms.  But  the 
dead  man  lay  at  peace,  a  smile  of  gratified  honour  on  his 
placid  face,  as  if  he  yet  remembered  that  he  had,  at  the  last 
moment,  justified  himself  to  his  conscience  and  his  King. 

And  in  the  great  salon,  now  cleared  of  its  offending  vis 
itors,  Cymlin  sat  comforting  Matilda.  He  could  not  let 
this  favourable  hour  slip ;  he  held  her  hand  and  soothed  her 
sorrow,  and  finally  questioned  her  in  a  way  that  compelled 
her  to  rely,  in  some  measure,  upon  him. 

"  Stephen  was  here  yesterday  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Part  of  the  day.  He  left  here  at  four  in  the  after 
noon." 

"Yet  the  mail-rider,  under  oath,  swore  this  morning  that 
it  was  Stephen  who  robbed  the  mail." 

She  laughed  queerly,  and  asked,  "  What  did  Yupon 
Slade  say  ?  " 

"  Yupon  proved  that  he  was  in  the  tinker's  camp  at 
Brentwick  from  sunset  to  cock-crowing.  Half-a-dozen 
men  swore  to  it.  People  now  say  it  was  Stephen  and  Fred 
erick  Blythe.  But  if  it  was  not  Stephen,  who  was  it  ?  " 
and  he  looked  with  such  a  steady,  confident  gaze  into  Ma 
tilda's  face,  that  she  crimsoned  to  her  finger-tips.  She 
could  not  meet  his  eyes,  and  she  could  not  speak. 

"  I  wonder  who  played  at  being  Stephen  de  Wick,"  he 
said  gently.  And  the  silence  between  them  was  so  sensi 
tive,  that  neither  accusation  nor  confession  was  necessary. 

"  I  wish  that  you  had  trusted  me.     You  might  have  done 

J  O 

so  and  you  know  it." 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  295 

Then  they  began  to  talk  of  what  must  be  clone  about 
the  funeral.  Cymlin  promised  to  send  a  quick  messenger 
for  Sir  Thomas,  and  in  many  ways  made  himself  so  inti 
mately  necessary  to  the  lonely  women  that  they  would  not 
hear  of  his  leaving  de  Wick.  For  JVlatikla  was  charmed  by 
his  thoughtfulness,  and  by  the  masterful  way  in  which  he 
handled  people  and  events.  He  enforced  every  tittle  of  re 
spect  due  the  dead  man,  and  in  obedience  to  Matilda's  de 
sire  had  his  grave  dug  in  the  private  burying-place  of  the 
de  Wicks,  close  to  the  grave  of  the  lord  he  had  served  so 
faithfully.  As  for  the  accusations  the  sheriff  spread  abroad, 
they  died  as  soon  as  born  ;  Cymlin's  silent  contempt  with 
ered  them,  for  his  local  influence  was  so  great  that  the  at 
tending  constables  thought  it  best  to  have  no  clear  memory 
of  what  passed  in  those  last  moments  of  Anthony's  life. 

"  Lynn  was  neither  here  nor  there,"  said  one  of  them  ; 
"and  what  he  said  was  just  like  dreaming.  Surely  no  man  is 
to  be  blamed  for  words  between  sleeping  and  waking — much 
less  for  words  between  living  and  dying."  But  the  incident 
made  much  comment  in  the  King's  favour  ;  and  when  Sir 
Thomas  heard  of  it,  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  bared  his  head, 
but  whether  in  honour  of  the  King  or  of  Anthony  Lynn, 
he  did  not  say. 

After  Anthony  was  buried,  his  will  was  read.  He  left 
everything  he  possessed  to  the  Lady  Matilda  de  Wick,  and 
no  one  offered  a  word  of  dissent.  Sir  Thomas  seemed  un 
usually  depressed  and  his  lady  asked  him  "  if  he  was  in  any 
way  dissatisfied  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  answered  ;  "  the  will  is  unbreakable  by  any 
law  now  existing.  Lynn  has  hedged  and  fenced  every  tech 
nicality  with  wonderful  wisdom  and  care.  It  is  not  anything 
in  connection  with  his  death  that  troubles  me.  It  is  the  death 
of  the  ouriii  Lord  Neville  that  gives  me  constant  regret. 


296  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

It  is  unnatural  and  most  unhappy  ;  and  I  do  blame  myself 
a  little." 

"  Is  he  dead  ?  Alas  !  Alas  !  Such  a  happy,  handsome 
youth.  It  is  incredible,"  said  Lady  Jevery. 

"  I  thought  he  had  run  away  to  the  Americas  with  your 
gold  and  my  aunt's  jewels,"  said  Matilda. 

"  I  wronged  him,  I  wronged  him  grievously,"  answered 
Sir  Thomas.  "  That  wretch  of  a  woman  at  The  Hague 
never  paid  him  a  farthing,  never  even  saw  him.  She  in 
tended  to  rob  me  and  slay  him  for  a  thousand  pounds,  but 
under  question  of  the  law  she  confessed  her  crime." 

"  I  hope  she  is  hung  for  it,"  said  Lady  Jevery. 

"  She  is  ruined,  and  in  prison  for  life — but  that  brings  not 
back  poor  Neville." 

"What  do  you  think  has  happened  to  him  ?  " 

"I  think  robbery  and  murder.  Some  one  has  known,  or 
suspected,  that  he  had  treasure  with  him.  He  has  been  fol 
lowed  and  assassinated,  or  he  has  fought  and  been  killed. 
Somewhere  within  fifty  miles  of  Paris  he  lies  in  a  bloody, 
unknown  grave ;  and  little  Jane  Swaffham  is  slowly  dying 
of  grief  and  cruel  suspense.  She  loves  him,  and  they  were 
betrothed." 

There  was  a  short  silence,  and  then  Matilda  said,  "  Jane 
was  not  kind  to  poor  Stephen.  He  loved  her  all  his  life, 
and  yet  she  put  Lord  Neville  before  him.  As  for  Neville, 
the  nobility  of  the  sword  carry  their  lives  in  their  hands. 
That  is  understood.  Many  brave  young  lords  have  gone 
out  from  home  and  friends  these  past  years,  and  never  come 
back.  Is  Neville's  life  worth  more  than  my  brother's  life, 
than  thousands  of  other  lives  ?  I  trow  not !  " 

But  in  the  privacy  of  her  room  she  could  not  preserve 
this  temper.  "  I  wonder  if  Rupert  slew  him,"  she  mut 
tered.  And  anon  — 


CHANGES  AT  DE  WICK  297 

"  He  had  money  and  jewels,  and  the  King  and  his  pov 
erty-stricken  court  cry,  '  Give,  give,'  constantly. 

u  He  would  think  it  no  wrong — only  a  piece  of  good 
luck. 

"  He  would  not  tell  me  because  of  Jane. 

"  He  might  also  be  jealous  of  Cluny.  I  spoke  often  of 
the  youth's  beauty — I  did  that  out  of  simple  mischief — but 
Rupert  is  touchy,  sometimes  cruel — always  eager  for  gold. 
Poor  Jane  !  " 

Then  she  put  her  hand  to  her  breast.  The  portrait  of 
Prince  Rupert  that  had  lain  there  for  so  many  years  was 
not  in  its  place.  She  was  not  astonished;  very  often  lately 
she  had  either  forgotten  it,  or  intentionally  refused  to  wear 
it.  And  Stephen's  assertion  that  failure  was  written  on  all 
Rupert  touched  had  found  its  echo  in  her  heart.  When 
she  dressed  herself  to  secure  the  warrant,  she  purposely 
took  oft  Rupert's  picture  and  put  it  in  her  jewel  box. 
She  went  there  now  to  look  for  it,  and  the  hauntino-  mel- 

'  O 

ancholy  of  the  dark  face  made  her  shiver.  "Stephen  told 
me  the  very  truth,"  she  thought.  "  He  has  been  my  evil 
genius  as  well  as  the  King's.  While  his  picture  has  been 
on  my  heart,  I  have  seen  all  I  love  vanish  away."  A  kind 
of  terror  made  her  close  her  eyes  ;  she  would  not  meet 
Rupert's  sorrow-haunted  gaze,  though  it  was  only  painted. 
She  felt  as  if  to  do  so  was  to  court  misfortune,  and  though 
the  old  love  tugged  at  her  very  life,  she  lifted  one  tray  and 
then  another  tray  of  her  jewel  case,  and  laid  Prince  Rupert 
under  them  both. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON 

"  Like  ships,  that  sailed  for  sunny  isles, 
But  never  came  to  shore." 

"  I  could  lie  down  like  a  tired  child, 
And  weep  away  the  life  of  care 
Which  I  have  borne,  and  yet  must  bear." 

"  He  is  most  high  who  humblest  at  God's  feet 
Lies,  loving  God  and  trusting  though  He  smite." 

THE  settlement  of  the  affairs  of  Anthony  Lynn  oc 
cupied  .Sir  Thomas  much  longer  than  he  expected,  and  the 
autumn  found  the  family  still  at  de  Wick.  For  other 
reasons,  this  delay  in  the  retirement  of  the  country  had 
seemed  advisable.  Stephen  had  escaped,  as  had  also  his 
companion  conspirators,  Mason  and  Blythe;  and  Matilda 
could  not  but  compliment  herself  a  little  on  her  share  in 
securing  their  safety.  But  the  plot  and  its  consequences  had 
kept  London  on  the  alert  all  summer.  Little  of  this  ex 
citement  reached  them.  Sir  Thomas  was  busy  laying  out 
a  garden  after  a  plan  of  Mr.  Evelyn's  ;  Lady  Jevery  was 
making  perfumes  and  medicinal  waters,  washes  for  the 
toilet  and  confections  for  the  table.  Matilda  was  out  walk 
ing  or  riding  with  Cymlin  Swaffham,  or  sitting  with  him 
in  the  shady  garden  or  in  the  handsome  rooms  of  de 
Wick.  Her  uncle  had  presented  her  with  a  fine  organ, 
but  her  lute  suited  her  best,  and  she  knew  well  what  a  beau 
tiful  picture  she  made,  singing  to  its  tinkling  music. 

298 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  299 

If  Cymlin  was  in  the  hall,  she  came  down  the  stairway — 
flooded  with  coloured  lights  from  its  painted  windows — 
lute  in  hand,  singing — singing  of  young  Adonis  or  cruel 
Cupid;  her  rich  garments  trailing,  her  white  hands  flashing, 
her  face  bent  to  her  adorer,  her  voice  filling  the  space  with 
melody.  Or  she  sat  in  the  window,  with  the  summer 
scents  and  sun  around  her,  musically  mocking  Love,  as  if  he 
never  had  or  never  could  touch  her.  Cymlin  knew  all  her 
entrancing  ways,  and  followed  her  in  them  with  wonder 
ful  prudence.  No  word  of  his  great  affection  passed  his 
lips  ;  he  let  his  eyes  and  his  actions  speak  for  him  ;  and  there 
had  been  times  when  Matilda,  provoked  by  his  restraint, 
had  used  all  her  fascinations  to  compel  his  confession. 
But  she  had  to  deal  with  a  man  of  extraordinary  patience, 
one  who  could  bide  his  time,  and  he  knew  his  time  had  not 
yet  come. 

Towards  the  middle  of  September  Sir  Thomas  roused 
himself  from  his  life  among  flowers  and  shrubs,  and  said 
he  must  go  back  to  London.  He  was  expecting  some  ships 
with  rich  cargoes,  and  the  last  flowers  were  beginning  to 
droop,  and  the  rooks  were  complaining,  as  they  always  do 
when  the  mornings  are  cold  ;  the  time  for  the  outdoor  life 
was  ended ;  he  had  a  sudden  desire  for  his  wharf  and  his 
office,  and  the  bearded,  outlandish  men  that  he  would  meet 
there.  And  as  the  ladies  also  wished  to  return  to  London, 
the  beautiful  home  quickly  put  on  an  air  of  desertion. 
Boxes  littered  the  hall;  they  were  only  waiting  until  the 
September  rain-storm  should  pass  away,  and  the  roads  be 
come  fit  for  travel. 

At  this  unsettled  time,  and  in  a  driving  shower,  Cymlin 
and  Doctor  Verity  were  seen  galloping  up  the  avenue  one 
evening.  Every  one  was  glad  at  the  prospect  of  news  and 
company,  Sir  Thomas  so  much  so,  that  he  went  to  the 


3oo  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

door  to  meet  the  Doctor.  "  Nobody  could  be  more  wel 
come,"  he  said;  "and  pray,  what  good  fortune  brings  you 
here  ? " 

"  I  come  to  put  my  two  nephews  in  Huntingdon  Gram 
mar  school.  I  want  them  to  sit  where  Cromwell  sat,"  he 
answered. 

Then  he  drew  his  chair  to  the  hearth,  where  the  ash  logs 
burned  and  blazed  most  cheerfully,  and  looked  round  upon 
the  company — the  genial  Sir  Thomas,  and  his  placid,  kindly 
lady,  and  the  beautiful  girl,  who  was  really  his  hostess. 
Nor  was  he  unmindful  of  Cymlin  at  her  side,  for  in  the 
moment  that  his  eyes  fell  on  the  young  man,  he  seemed  to 
see,  as  in  letters  of  light,  an  old  description  of  Englishmen, 
and  to  find  in  Cymlin  its  expression — "  a  strong  kind  of  peo 
ple,  audacious,  bold,  puissant  and  berolcal ;  of  great  magnanim 
ity,  valiancy  and  prowess" 

As  he  was  thinking  these  things,  Sir  Thomas  said,  u  You 
must  make  us  wise  about  events.  We  have  had  only  the 
outlines  of  them,  and  we  are  going  into  the  midst  of  we 
know  not  what.  As  to  the  great  plot,  was  it  as  black  as  it 
was  painted  ?  " 

"  Like  all  the  works  of  the  devil,  it  grew  blacker  as  it 
was  pulled  into  the  light.  It  was  soon  an  indisputable  fact, 
that  de  Baas,  Mazarin's  envoy  extraordinary  in  London, 
was  head  over  heels  in  the  shameful  business.  I  can  tell 
you,  de  Baas  had  a  most  unpleasant  hour  with  the  Protec 
tor;  under  Cromwell's  eyes  and  questions,  he  wilted  away 
like  a  snail  under  salt." 

"  What  did  Cromwell  do  to  him  ?  " 

"  Sent  him  back  to  King  Louis  and  to  Mazarin  with  a 
letter.  They  have  done  the  punishing,  I  have  no  doubt. 
He  would  better  have  thrown  himself  on  Cromwell's  mercy 
than  face  Mazarin  with  his  tale  of  being  found  out.  More 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  301 

like  than  not  he  is  at  this  hour  in  the  Bastile.  No  one  will 
hear  any  more  of  M.  de  Baas." 

"  Then  you  think  Mazarin  was  really  in  the  plot  to 
assassinate  ?  " 

"  No  doubt  of  it ;  de  Baas  was  only  his  creature.  Both 
of  them  should  be  rolled  into  their  graves,  with  their  faces 
downward." 

"  And  King;  Louis  the  Fourteenth  ?  " 

O 

"  He  knew  all  about  the  affair.  Kings  and  Priests ! 
Kings  and  Priests  !  they  would  trick  the  world  away,  were 
it  not  that  now  and  then  some  brave  yeoman  were  a  match 
for  them." 

"  And  Prince  Rupert  ?  " 

"  Neck  deep.  That  was  fortunate,  for  he  is  a  luckless 
blackguard,  and  dooms  all  he  touches." 

"  If  a  man  is  unfortunate,  he  is  not  therefore  wicked, 
Doctor.  These  men  were  plotting  for  what  they  believed 
a  good  end,"  said  Matilda  with  some  temper. 

"  Good  ends  never  need  assassination,  my  lady  ;  if  evil 
is  done,  evil  will  come  from  it." 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  pity  the  men." 

"  Pity  them,  indeed  !  Not  I  !  The  scaffold  and  the 
halter  is  their  just  reward." 

"  Forty,  I  heard,  were  arrested." 

"  Cromwell  had  only  three  brought  to  trial.  Gerard  was 
beheaded,  Vowell  hung,  Fox  threw  himself  on  Cromwell's 
mercy  and  was  pardoned." 

"  Was  not  that  too  much  leniency  ?  " 

"  No.  Cromwell  poked  the  fire  to  let  them  see  he  could 
do  it  ;  but  he  did  not  want  to  burn  every  one.  He  has 
made  known  to  England  and  to  Europe,  and  especially  to 
France,  his  vigilance.  He  has  escaped  the  death  they  in 
tended  for  him.  He  has  proved  to  the  Royalists,  by 


302 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


Gerard's  and  VowelPs  execution,  that  he  will  not  spare 
them  because  they  are  Englishmen.  Beyond  this  he  will 
not  go.  It  is  enough.  Most  of  the  forty  were  only  tools. 
It  is  not  Cromwell's  way  to  snap  at  the  stick,  but  at  the 
cowardly  hands  that  hold  it." 

"  If  he  can  reach  them,"  muttered  Matilda. 

"  Then,  Sir  Thomas,  we  have  united  Scotland  to  the 
Commonwealth.  Kingship  is  abolished  there ;  vassalage 
and  slavish  feudal  institutions  are  swept  away ;  heritors 
are  freed  from  military  service.  Oh,  'tis  a  grand  union  for 
the  Scotch  common  people  !  I  say  nothing  of  the  nobles; 
no  reparation  has  been  made  them — they  don't  deserve  any ; 
they  are  always  invading  England  on  one  pretext  or  an 
other.  But  they  cannot  now  force  the  poor  heritors  to 
throw  down  their  spades  and  flails,  and  carry  spears  for 
them.  The  men  may  sow  their  wheat  and  barley,  and  if 
it  will  ripen  in  their  cold,  bleak  country,  they  can  bake  and 
brew  it,  and  eat  and  drink  it  in  peace." 

"  I  do  not  believe  Englishmen  like  this  union,  Doctor. 
I  do  not — it  is  all  in  favour  of  Scotland.  They  have  noth 
ing  to  give  us,  and  yet  we  must  share  all  our  glory  and  all 
our  gains  with  them.  They  do  not  deserve  it.  They  have 
done  nothing  for  their  own  freedom,  and  we  have  made 
them  free.  They  have  no  commerce,  and  we  must  share 
ours  with  them.  And  they  are  a  proud,  masterful  people ; 
they  will  not  be  mere  buttons  on  the  coat-tails  of  our  rulers. 
Union,  indeed  !  It  will  be  a  cat  and  a  dog  union." 

"  I  know,  Sir  Thomas,  that  Englishmen  feel  to  Scotch 
men  very  much  as  a  scholar  does  to  Latin — however  well 
he  knows  it,  it  is  not  his  mother  tongue.  What  we  like, 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  question.  It  is  England's 
labour  and  duty  and  honour  to  give  freedom  to  all  over 
whom  her  Red  Cross  floats ;  to  share  her  strength  and  se- 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  303 

curity  with  the  weak  and  the  vassal,  and  her  wine  and  her 
oil  and  her  purple  raiment  with  the  poverty-stricken.  Eng 
land  must  open  her  hands,  and  drop  blessings  upon  the  de 
serving  and  the  undeserving ;  yes,  even  where  the  slave 
does  not  know  he  is  a  slave,  she  must  make  him  free." 

"  And  get  kicked  and  reviled  for  it." 

"  To  be  sure — the  rough  side  of  the  tongue,  and  the 
kick  behind  always  ;  but  even  slavish  souls  will  find  out 
what  freedom  means,  if  we  give  them  time." 

"But,  Doctor " 

"  But  me  no  buts,  Sir  Thomas.  Are  we  not  great 
enough  to  share  our  greatness  ?  I  trow  we  are  !  " 

u  I  confess,  Doctor,  that  in  spite  of  what  you  say,  my 
patriotism  dwells  between  the  Thames  and  the  Tyne." 

"  Patriotism  !  'Tis  a  word  that  gets  more  honour  than 
it  deserves.  Half  the  wars  that  have  desolated  this  earth 
have  come  from  race  hatreds.  Patriotism  has  been  at  the 
bottom  of  the  bloodiest  scenes ;  every  now  and  then  it 
threatens  civilisation.  If  there  were  no  Irish  and  no  Scotch 
and  no  French  and  no  Dutch  and  no  Spanish,  we  might 
hope  for  peace.  I  think  the  time  may  corne  when  the 
world  will  laugh  at  what  we  call  our  '  patriotism  '  and  our 
fencing  ourselves  from  the  rest  of  mankind  with  fortresses 
and  cannon." 

"  That  time  is  not  yet,  Doctor  Verity.  When  the 
leopard  and  the  lamb  lie  down  together,  perhaps.  But  all 
men  are  not  brothers  yet,  and  the  English  flag  must  be  kept 
flying." 

"  The  day  may  come  when  there  will  be  no  flags  ;  or  at 
least  only  one  emblem  for  one  great  Commonwealth." 

"Then  the  Millennium  will  have  come,  Doctor,"  said 
Sir  Thomas. 

"  In  the  meantime  we  have  Oliver  Cromwell  !  "  laughed 


3o4  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Matilda,  "  and  pray,  Doctor,  what  state  does  his  Highness 
keep  ?  " 

"  He  keeps  both  in  Hampton  Court  and  Whitehall  a 
magnificent  state.  That  it  due  to  his  office." 

D 

"  I  heard — but  it  is  a  preposterous  scandal — that  the 
Lady  Frances  is  to  marry  King  Charles  the  Second,"  said 
Lady  Jevery. 

"  A  scandal  indeed  !  Cromwell  would  not  listen  to  the 
proposal.  He  loves  his  daughter  too  well  to  put  her  in  the 
power  of  Charles  Stuart;  and  the  negotiation  was  definitely 
declined,  on  the  ground  of  Charles  Stuart's  abominable 
debauchery." 

"  Imagine  this  thing  !  "  cried  Matilda  striking  her  hands 
together.  "  Imagine  King  Charles  refused  by  Oliver 
Cromwell's  daughter  !  " 

"  It  was  hard  for  Charles  to  imagine  it,"  replied  the 
Doctor. 

"  I  hear  we  have  another  Parliament,"  said  Sir  Thomas. 

"  Yes  ;  a  hazardous  matter  for  Cromwell,"  answered  the 
Doctor.  "  All  electors  were  free  to  vote,  who  had  not 
borne  arms  against  the  Parliament.  Most  of  them  are 
Episcopalians,  who  hate  Cromwell ;  and  Presbyterians,  who 
hate  him  still  worse  ;  and  Republicans,  who  are  sure  he 
wants  to  be  a  King ;  and  Fifth  Monarchy  men  and  Anabap 
tists,  who  think  he  has  fallen  from  grace.  Ludlow,  Har 
rison,  Rich,  Carew,  even  Joyce — once  his  close  friends — 
have  become  his  enemies  since  he  was  lifted  so  far  above 
them.  And  they  have  their  revenge.  Their  desertion  has 
been  a  great  grief  to  the  Protector.  '  I  have  been  wounded 
in  the  house  of  my  friends,'  he  said  to  me  ;  and  he  had  the 
saddest  face  that  ever  mortal  wore.  Yet,  it  is  a  great 
Parliament,  freely  chosen,  with  thirty  members  from  Scot 
land,  and  thirty  from  Ireland." 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  305 

"  After  Cromwell's  experience  with  the  Irish,"  said 
Matilda,  "  I  do  wonder  that  he  made  them  equal  with 
Scotland." 

"  I  do  wonder  at  it,  also.  John  Verity  would  not  have 
done  it,  not  he  !  But  the  Protector  treads  his  shoes  straight 
for  friend  or  foe.  He  will  get  no  thanks  from  the  Irish 
for  fair  dealing  ;  that  is  not  enough  for  them  ;  what  they 
want  is  all  for  themselves,  and  nothing  for  any  one  else  ; 
and  if  thev  got  that,  they  would  still  cry  for  more." 

At  this  point  Matilda  rose  and  went  into  an  adjoining 
parlour,  and  Cymlin  followed  her.  Lady  Jevery,  reclining 
in  her  chair,  closed  her  eyes,  and  the  Doctor  and  Sir 
Thomas  continued  their  conversation  on  Cromwell  and  on 
political  events  with  unabated  spirit  until  Lady  Jevery, 
suddenly  bringing  herself  to  attention,  said  — • 

"•  All  this  is  very  fine  talk,  indeed ;  but  if  this  great 
Oliver  has  ambassadors  from  every  country  seeking  his 
friendship,  if  he  has  the  wily  Mazarin  at  his  disposal,  why 
can  he  not  find  out  something  about  that  poor  Lord  Ne 
ville  r  It  was  said  when  we  were  in  Paris  that  Mazarin 
knew  every  scoundrel  in  France,  and  knew  also  how  to  use 
them.  Let  him  find  Neville  through  them.  Has  Colonel 
Ayrton  returned,  or  is  he  also  missing  ?  " 

"•  He  returned  some  time  ago.  He  discovered  nothing 
of  importance.  It  is  certain  that  Neville  left  the  Mazarin 
palace  soon  after  noon  on  the  seventh  of  last  November  ; 
that  he  went  directly  to  the  house  in  which  he  had  lodged, 
eat  his  dinner,  paid  his  bill,  and  gave  the  woman  a  silver 
Commonwealth  crown  for  favour.  She  showed  the  piece 
to  Ayrton,  and  said  further  that,  soon  after  eating,  a  gentle 
man  called  on  Neville,  that  in  her  presence  Neville  gave 
him  some  letters,  and  that  after  this  gentleman's  departure, 
Neville  waited  very  impatiently  for  a  horse  which  he  had 


3o6  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

bought  that  morning,  and  which  did  not  arrive  on  time  ; 
that  when  it  did  arrive,  it  was  not  the  animal  purchased, 
but  that  after  some  disputing,  Neville  agreed  to  take  the 
exchange.  The  horse  dealer  was  a  gypsy,  and  Ayrton 
spent  some  time  in  finding  him,  and  then  in  watching  him. 
For  Ayrton  judged — and  I  am  sure  rightly — that  if  the 
gypsy  had  followed  and  slain  and  robbed  Neville,  he  could 
not  refrain  himself  from  wearing  the  broidered  belt  and  sap 
phire  ring  of  his  victim.  Besides  which,  your  jewels  would 
have  been  given  to  the  women  of  his  camp.  But  no  sign 
of  these  things  was  found — kerchief,  or  chain  or  purse,  or 
any  trifle  that  had  belonged  to  the  unfortunate  young  man." 

"  Was  there  any  trace  of  him  after  he  left  Paris  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Ayrton  found  out  that  he  stayed  half-an-hour  at 
a  little  inn  fourteen  miles  beyond  Paris  to  have  his  horse 
fed  and  watered.  One  of  the  women  at  this  house  de 
scribed  him  perfectly,  and  added  that  as  he  waited  he  was 
singing  softly  to  himself,  a  thing  so  likely,  and  so  like 
Cluny,  that  it  leaves  no  doubt  in  my  mind  of  his  identity  ; 
and  that  he  was  really  there  '  between  gloaming  and  moon 
shine  '  on  the  eleventh  of  last  November.  Beyond  that 
all  is  blank — a  deaf  and  dumb  blank." 

"  How  far  was  it  to  the  next  house  ?  " 

"  Only  two  or  three  miles  ;  but  no  one  there  remem 
bered  anything  that  passed  on  that  night.  They  said  that 
horsemen  in  plenty,  and  very  often  carriages,  were  used  to 
pass  that  way,  but  that  unless  they  stopped  for  entertain 
ment,  no  attention  was  paid  to  travelers." 

"  Who  was  the  gentleman  who  visited  Cluny  and  re 
ceived  his  letters  ?  " 

"Menzies  of  iMusselburg,  an  old  friend  of  Neville's 
mother.  Ayrton  went  to  Scotland  to  question  him,  but  to 
no  purpose." 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  307 

"  Then  I  suppose  we  shall  see  no  more  of  Lord  Neville. 
I  am  very  sorry.  He  was  a  good  youth,  and  he  loved  Jane 
Swaffham  very  honestly.  And  my  jewels,  too,  are  gone, 
and  if  it  were  worth  while,  I  could  be  sorry  for  them  also ; 
one  set  was  of  great  value  and  singular  workmanship.  But 
they  count  for  little  in  comparison  with  Neville's  life  and 
little  jane's  sorrow." 

A  week  after  this  evening  the  Jeverys  were  in  their  own 
house,  and  Matilda  had  sent  word  to  Jane  SwafFham  that 
she  wanted  to  see  her.  Why  she  did  this,  she  hardly  knew. 
Her  motives  were  much  mixed,  but  the  kindly  ones  pre 
dominated.  At  any  rate,  they  did  so  when  the  grave  little 
woman  entered  her  presence.  For  she  came  to  meet  Ma 
tilda  with  outstretched  hands  and  her  old  sweet  smile,  and 
she  expressed  all  her  usual  interest  in  whatever  concerned 
Matilda.  Had  she  met  her  weeping  and  complaining,  Ma 
tilda  felt  she  would  almost  have  hated  her.  But  there  was 
nothing  about  Jane  suggestive  of  the  great  sorrow  through 
which  she  was  passing.  Her  eyes  alone  told  of  her  soul's 
travail ;  the  lids  drooped,  and  there  was  that  dark  shadow 
in  them,  which  only  comes  through  the  incubation  of  some 
long,  anxious  grief  in  the  heart.  But  her  smile  was  as 
ready  and  sweet,  her  manner  as  sympathetic,  her  dress  as 
carefully  neat  and  appropriate  as  it  had  always  been. 

Matilda  fell  readily  under  the  charm  of  such  a  kind  and 
self-effacing  personality.  She  opened  her  heart  on  various 
subjects  to  Jane,  more  especially  on  Anthony  Lynn's  dra 
matic  life  and  death,  and  the  money  and  land  he  had  left 
her.  "Of  course,"  she  said,  "it  is  only  temporary. 
When  the  King  comes  home,  Stephen  will  be  Earl  de 
Wick,  and  I  shall  willingly  resign  all  to  him.  In  the  mean 
time  I  intend  to  carry  out  Anthony's  plans  for  the  improve 
ment  of  the  estate  ;  and  for  this  end,  I  shall  have  to  live  a 


3o3  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

great  deal  at  de  Wick.  Lynn  often  said  to  me,  '  Some  one 
must  own  the  land,  and  the  person  who  owns  it  ought  to 
live  on  it.' ' 

When  this  subject  had  been  talked  well  over,  Jane  named 
cautiously  the  lover  in  France.  Much  to  her  surprise,  Ma 
tilda  seemed  pleased  to  enlarge  on  the  topic.  She  spoke 
herself  of  Prince  Rupert,  and  of  the  poverty  and  suffering 
Charles'  Court  were  enduring,  and  she  regretted  with  many 
strong  expressions  Rupert's  presence  there.  "  All  he  makes 
is  swallowed  up  in  the  bottomless  Stuart  pit,"  she  said ;  "  even 
my  youth  and  beauty  have  gone  the  same  hopeless  road." 

"  Not  your  beauty,  Matilda.  I  never  saw  you  look  love 
lier  than  you  do  to-day." 

"  That  I  credit  to  Cymlin,"  she  answered.  "  He  would 
not  let  me  mope — you  know  how  masterful  he  is  " — and 
Matilda  laughed  and  put  her  hands  over  her  ears ;  "  he 
made  me  go  riding  and  walking,  made  me  plant  and  gather, 
made  me  fish  and  hawk,  made  me  sing  and  play  and  read 
aloud  to  him.  And  I  have  taught  him  a  galliard  and  a 
minuet,  and  we  have  had  a  very  happy  summer — on  the 
whole.  Happiness  breeds  beauty." 

"  Poor  Cymlin  !  " 

"  There  is  no  need  to  say  '  poor  Cymlin,'  Jane  Swaff- 
ham.  I  am  not  going  to  abuse  poor  Cymlin.  He  is  to  be 
my  neighbour,  and  I  hope  my  catechism  has  taught  me 
what  my  duty  to  my  neighbour  is.  Is  it  true  that  Will  and 
Tonbert  have  thrown  their  lives  and  fortunes  into  the 
Massachusetts  Colony  ? " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Jane  ;  "  and  if  my  parents  were  will 
ing,  I  would  like  to  join  them.  The  letters  they  send  make 
you  dream  of  Paradise.  They  have  bought  a  dukedom  of 
land,  father  says,  hills  and  valleys  and  streams,  and  the 
great  sea  running  up  to  their  garden  wall." 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  309 

"  Garden  ?  " 

"Yes,  they  have  begun  to  build  and  to  plant.  There  is 
no  whisper  of  their  return,  for  they  are  as  content  as  if  they 
had  found  the  Fortunate  Islands.  Father  is  much  im 
pressed  with  their  experience,  and  I  can  see  he  ponders  it 
like  one  who  might  perhaps  share  it.  I  am  sure  he  would 
leave  England,  if  the  Protector  died." 

"  Or  the  King  came  back  ?  " 

"  Yes.      He  would  never  live  under  a  Stuart." 

"  The  poor  luckless  Stuarts !  They  are  all  luckless, 
Jane.  I  have  felt  it.  I  have  drunk  of  their  cup  of  disap 
pointments,  and  really  the  happiest  time  of  my  life  has 
been  the  past  summer,  when  I  put  them  out  of  my  mem 
ory — king  and  prince,  and  all  that  followed  them.  Had  it 
not  been  for  your  kind  note  of  warning,  Stephen  also  had 
been  a  sacrifice  to  their  evil  fate.  It  has  to  be  propitiated 
with  a  life  now  and  then,  just  like  some  old  dragon  or  devil." 

"  There  was  a  queer  story  about  Stephen  robbing  the 
mail,  and  tearing  up  the  three  warrants  for  the  arrest  of 
Elythe  and  Mason  and  himself,"  said  Jane. 

"  Did  you  believe  that,  Jane  ?  " 

"  The  mail  was  robbed.  The  warrants  were  never 
found.  Stephen  has  a  daredevil  temper  at  times.  I  think, 
too,  he  would  risk  much  to  save  his  friends.  When  did 
you  hear  from  him  ?  " 

"  I  hear  very  often  now,  Jane,  for  it  is  the  old,  old  story — 
money,  money,  money.  The  King  is  hungry  and  thirsty; 
he  has  no  clothes  ;  he  cannot  pay  his  washing  bill ;  he  has 
no  shoes  to  go  out  in,  and  his  '  dear  brother,'  King  Louis 
of  France,  is  quite  oblivious.  In  fact  he  has  made,  or  is 
going  to  make,  an  alliance  with  Cromwell;  and  the  Stuarts, 
bag  and  baggage,  are  to  leave  French  territory.  But  for 
all  that,  I  am  not  going  to  strip  de  Wick  a  second  time  for 


310  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

them  ;  "  then  drawing  Jane  close  to  her,  and  taking  her 
hand  she  said  with  an  impulsive  tenderness  — 

"  Jane,  dear  Jane,  I  do  not  wish  to  open  a  wound  afresh, 
but  I  am  sorry  for  you,  I  am  indeed  !  How  can  you  bear 
it  ?  " 

"  I  have  cast  over  it  the  balm  of  prayer ;  I  have  shut  it 
up  in  my  heart,  and  given  my  heart  to  God.  I  have  said 
to  God,  '  Do  as  Thou  wilt  with  me.'  I  am  content ;  and 
I  have  found  a  light  in  sorrow,  brighter  than  all  the  flaring 
lights  of  joy." 

u  Then  you  believe  him  to  be  dead  ?  " 

"Yes.  There  is  no  help  against  such  a  conclusion  ;  and 
yet,  Matilda,  there  comes  to  me  sometimes,  such  an  instan 
taneous,  penetrating  sense  of  his  presence,  that  I  must  be 
lieve  he  is  not  far  away  ; "  and  her  confident  heart's  still 
fervour,  her  tremulous  smile,  her  eyes  like  clear  water  full 
of  the  sky,  affected  Matilda  with  the  same  apprehending. 
"  My  soul  leans  and  hearkens  after  him,"  she  continued  ; 
"and  life  is  so  short  and  so  full  of  duty,  it  may  be  easily, 
yes,  cheerfully,  borne  a  few  years.  My  cup  is  still  full  of 
love — home  love,  and  friends'  love ;  Cluny's  love  is  safe, 
and  we  shall  meet  again,  when  life  is  over." 

"  Will  you  know  ?  Will  he  know  ?  What  if  you  both 
forget  ?  What  if  you  cannot  find  him  ?  Have  you  ever 
thought  of  what  multitudes  there  will  be  there  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  a  great  crowd  that  no  man  can  number — a  throng 
of  worlds — but  love  will  bring  the  beloved.  Love  hath 
everlasting  remembrance." 

"  Love  is  a  cruel  joy  !  a  baseless  dream  !  a  great  tragedy  ! 
a  lingering  death  !  " 

"  No,  no,  no  !  Love  is  the  secret  of  life.  Love  redeems 
us.  Love  lifts  us  up.  Love  is  a  ransom.  The  tears  of 
love  are  a  prayer.  I  let  them  fall  into  my  hands,  and  offer 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  311 

them  a  willing  sacrifice  to  Him  who  gave  me  love.  For 
living  or  dead,  Cluny  is  mine,  mine  forever."  And  there 
was  such  a  haunting  sweetness  about  the  chastened  girl, 
that  Matilda  looked  round  wonderingly;  it  was  as  if  there 
were  freshly  gathered  violets  in  the  room. 

She  remained  silent,  and  Jane,  after  a  few  minutes'  pause, 
said,  "  I  must  go  home,  now,  and  rest  a  little.  To-morrow 
I  am  bid  to  Hampton  Court,  and  I  am  not  as  strong  as  I 
was  a  year  ago.  Little  journeys  tire  me." 

"  And  you  will  come  and  tell  me  all  about  your  visit. 
The  world  turned  upside  down  is  an  entertaining  spectacle. 
By  my  troth,  I  am  glad  to  see  it  at  second  hand  !  Ann 
Clarges  the  market-woman  in  one  palace,  and  Elizabeth 
Cromwell  in  another " 

u  The  Cromvvells  are  my  friends,  Matilda.  And  I  will 
assure  you  that  Hampton  Court  never  saw  a  more  worthy 
queen  than  Elizabeth  Cromwell." 

"  I  have  a  saucy  tongue,  Jane — do  not  mind  when  it 
backbites;  there  is  no  one  like  you.  I  love  you  well  !  " — 
These  words  with  clasped  hands  and  kisses  between  the 
two  girls.  Then  Matilda's  face  became  troubled,  and  she 
sat  clown  alone,  with  her  brows  drawn  together  and  her 
hands  tightly  clasped.  "What  shall  I  do?  "  she  asked  her 
self,  and  she  could  not  resolve  on  her  answer ;  not,  at  least, 
while  swayed  by  the  gentle,  truthful  atmosphere  with  which 
Jane  had  suffused  the  room.  This  influence,  however,  was 
soon  invaded  by  her  own  personality,  dominant,  and  not 
unselfish,  and  she  quickly  reasoned  away  all  suggestions 
but  those  which  guarded  her  own  happiness  and  comfort. 

"  If  I  tell  about  the  duel  with  Rupert,"  she  thought,  "it 
can  do  no  good  to  the  dead,  and  it  may  make  scandal  and 
annoyance  for  the  living.  Cromwell  will  take  hold  of  it, 
and  demand  not  only  the  jewels  and  money  and  papers,  but 


312 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


also  the  body  of  Neville.  That  will  make  more  ill  feeling 
to  the  Stuarts,  and  it  is  manifest  they  are  already  very  un 
welcome  with  the  French  Court.  It  will  be  excuse  for 
further  unkindness,  and  they  have  enough  and  more  than 
enough  to  bear." 

For  a  long  time  she  sat  musing  in  this  strain,  battling 
down  intrusive  doubts,  until  at  last  she  was  forced  to  give 
them  speech.  She  did  so  impatiently,  feeling  herself  com 
pelled  to  rise  and  walk  rapidly  up  and  down  the  room,  be 
cause  motion  gave  her  a  sense  of  resistance  to  the  thoughts 
threatening  to  overwhelm  her. 

"  Did  Rupert  kill  Neville  ?  "  she  asked  herself.  "  Oh, 
me,  I  do  fear  it.  And  if  so,  I  am  to  blame  !  I  am  to 
blame  !  I  told  Rupert  Neville  was  going  to  take  charge  of 
my  aunt's  jewels.  Why  was  I  such  a  fool  ?  And  Rupert 
knew  that  Neville  had  papers  Charles  Stuart  would  like  to 
see,  and  money  he  would  like  to  have.  Oh,  the  vile,  vile 
coin  !  I  do  fear  the  man  was  slain  for  it — and  by  Rupert. 
He  lied  to  me,  then;  of  course  he  lied;  but  that  was  no 
new  thing  for  him  to  do.  He  has  lied  a  thousand  times  to 
me,  and  when  found  out  only  laughed,  or  said  'twas  for  my 
ease  and  happiness,  or  that  women  could  not  bear  the 
truth,  or  some  such  trash  of  words  ;  and  so  I  was  kissed 
and  flattered  out  of  my  convictions.  Faith  in  God  !  but  I 
have  been  a  woman  fit  for  his  laughter !  What  shall  I 
do  ?  "  She  went  over  and  over  this  train  of  thought,  and 
ended  always  with  the  same  irresolute,  anxious  question, 
"  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

It  was  not  the  first  time  she  had  accused  Rupert  in  her 
heart.  She  knew  him  to  be  an  incomparable  swordsman; 
she  knew  he  regarded  duelling  as  a  mere  pastime  or  ac 
cident  of  life.  The  killing  of  Neville  would  not  give  him 
a  moment's  discomfort, — quite  otherwise,  for  he  was  a  trifle 


,  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  313 

jealous  of  him  in  more  ways  than  one ;  and  there  were 
money  and  information  to  be  gained  by  the  deed.  Politic 
ally,  the  111:1:1  was  his  enemy,  and  to  kill  him  was  only 
"satisfaction."  The  story  Rupert  told  her  of  the  duel  had 
always  been  an  improbable  one  to  her  intelligence.  She 
did  not  believe  it  at  the  time,  and  the  lapse  of  time  had  im 
paired  whatever  of  likelihood  it  possessed. 

u  Yes,  yes,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  Rupert  undoubtedly 
killed  Neville,  and  gave  the  jewels  and  money  and  papers 
to  Cirirles  Stuart.  But  how  can  I  tell  this  thing  ?  I  can 
not  !  If  it  would  restore  the  man's  life — perhaps.  Oh, 
that  I  had  never  seen  him  !  How  many  miserable  hours  I 
can  mix  with  his  name  !  The  creature  was  very  unworthy 
of  fane,  and  I  am  glad  he  is  dead.  Yes,  I  am.  Thousands 
of  better  men  are  slain,  and  forgotten — let  him  be  forgot 
ten  also.  I  will  not  say  a  word.  Why  should  I  bring 
Rupert  in  question  ?  One  never  knows  where  such  in 
quiries  set  on  foot  will  stop,  especially  if  that  wretch 
Cromwell  takes  a  hand  in  the  catechism."  But  she  was 
unhappy,  Jane's  face  reproached  her;  she  could  not  put 
away  from  her  consciousness  and  memory  its  stillness,  its 
haunting  pallor  and  unworldlike  far-offness. 

The  next  day  Jane  went  to  Hampton  Court.  The  place 
made  no  more  favourable  impression  on  her  than  it  had 
done  at  her  first  visit.  Indeed,  its  melancholy,  monastic 
atmosphere  was  even  more  remarkable.  The  forest  was 
bare  and  desolate,  the  avenues  veiled  in  mist,  the  battle- 
mented  towers  black  with  rooks,  the  silence  of  the  great 
quadrangles  only  emphasised  by  the  slow  tread  of  the  sol 
dier  on  guard.  But  Mrs.  Cromwell  had  not  lived  in  the 
Fen  country  without  learning  how  to  shut  nature's  gloom 
outside.  Jane  was  cheered  the  moment  she  entered  the 
old  palace  by  the  bla/.e  and  crackle  ot  the  enormous  wood- 


314  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

fires.  Posy  bowls,  full  of  iVlichaelmas  daisies,  bronzed 
ferns,  and  late  autumn  flowers  were  on  every  table;  pots 
of  ivy  drooped  from  the  mantel,  and  the  delicious  odour  of 
the  tiny  musk  flower  permeated  every  room  with  its  wild, 
earthy  perfume. 

She  was  conducted  to  an  apartment  in  one  of  the  suites 
formerly  occupied  by  Queen  Henrietta  Maria.  It  was 
gaily  furnished  in  the  French  style,  and  though  years  had 
dimmed  the  gilding  and  the  fanciful  paintings  and  the  rich 
satin  draperies,  it  was  full  of  a  reminiscent  charm  Jane 
could  not  escape.  As  she  dressed  herself  she  thought  of 
the  great  men  and  women  who  had  lived  and  loved,  and 
joyed  and  sorrowed  under  this  ancient  roof  of  Wolsey's 
splendid  palace.  Henry  the  Eighth  and  his  wives,  young 
Edward,  the  bloody  Queen  Mary,  and  the  high-mettled 
Elizabeth  ;  the  despicable  James,  and  the  tyrant  Charles 
with  his  handsome  favourite,  Buckingham,  and  his  un 
fortunate  advisers,  StrafFord  and  Laud.  And  then  Oliver 
Cromwell !  What  retributions  there  were  in  that  name  ! 
It  implied,  in  its  very  simplicity,  changes  unqualified  and 
uncompromising,  reaching  down  to  the  very  root  of  things. 

It  seemed  natural  to  dress  splendidly  to  thoughts  touch 
ing  so  many  royalties,  and  Jane  looked  with  satisfaction  at 
her  toilet.  It  had  progressed  without  much  care,  but  the 
result  was  fitting  and  beautiful :  a  long  gown  of  pale  blue 
silk,  with  white  lace  sleeves  and  a  lace  tippet,  and  a  string 
of  pearls  round  her  throat.  Anything  more  would  have 
been  too  much  for  Jane  Swaffham,  though  when  the 
Ladies  Mary  and  Frances  came  to  her,  she  could  not  help 
admiring  their  bows  and  bracelets  and  chains,  their  hair 
dressed  with  gemmed  combs  and  their  hands  full  of  fresh 
flowers.  She  thought  they  looked  like  princesses,  and  they 
were  overflowing  with  good-natured  happiness. 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  315 

Taking  Jane  by  the  hand,  they  led  her  from  room  to 
room,  showing  her  what  had  been  done  and  what  had  been 
added,  and  lingering  specially  in  the  magnificent  suite 
which  was  all  their  own.  It  was  very  strange.  Jane 
thought  of  the  little  chamber  with  the  sloping  roof  in  the 
house  they  occupied  in  Ely,  and  she  wondered  for  a  mo 
ment,  if  she  was  dreaming.  On  their  way  to  the  parlours 
they  passed  the  door  of  a  room  Jane  recollected  entering  on 
her  previous  visit,  and  she  asked  what  changes  had  been 
made  in  it  ? 

"•  None,"  said  Mary  with  a  touch  of  something  like 
annoyance. 

u  None  at  all,"  reiterated  Frances.  "  You  know  Charles 
Stuart  tried  to  sleep  in  it,  and  he  had  dreadful  dreams,  and 
the  night  lamp  was  always  put  out,  and  he  said  the  place 
was  full  of  horror  and  suffering.  It  was  haunted,"  the  girl 
almost  whispered.  "  My  father  said  '  nonsense,'  and  he 
slept  in  it  two  nights,  and  then " 

"  Father  found  it  too  cold,"  interrupted  Mary  im 
patiently.  "  He  never  said  more  than  that.  Listen  ! 
Some  one  is  coming  at  full  gallop — some  two,  I  think," 
and  she  ran  to  the  window  and  peered  out  into  the  night. 

"  It  is  the  Protector,"  she  said  ;  "  and  I  believe  Admiral 
Blake  is  with  him.  Let  us  go  down-stairs."  And  they 
took  Jane's  hands  and  went  together  down  the  great  stair 
way.  Lovelier  women  had  never  trod  the  dark,  splendid  de 
scent  ;  and  the  soft  wax-lights  in  the  candelabra  gave  to  their 
youthful  beauty  a  strange,  dreamlike  sense  of  unreal  life 
and  movement.  Mary  and  Frances  were  talking  softly ; 
Jane  was  thinking  of  that  closed  room  with  its  evil-proph 
esying  dreams,  and  its  lights  put  out  by  unseen  hands, 
and  the  mournful,  superstitious  King  in  his  captivity  fear 
ing  the  place,  and  feeling  in  it  as  Brutus  felt  when  his  evil 


3i6  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

genius  came  to  him  in  his  tent  and  said,  "  I  will  meet  thee 
again  at  Philippi."  Then  in  a  moment  there  flashed  across 
her  mind  a  woeful  dream  she  had  one  night  about  Cluny. 
It  had  come  to  her  in  the  height  of  her  hope  and  happi 
ness,  and  she  had  put  it  resolutely  from  her.  Now  she 
strove  with  all  her  soul  to  recollect  it,  but  Frances  would 
not  be  still,  and  the  dream  slipped  back  below  the  thresh 
old.  She  could  have  cried.  She  had  been  on  the  point  of 
saying,  "  Oh,  do  be  quiet !  "  but  the  soul's  illumination  had 
been  too  short  and  too  impalpable  for  her  to  grasp. 

The  next  moment  they  were  in  a  brilliantly  lighted 
room.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Claypole,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Richard 
Cromwell,  and  Doctor  John  Owen,  and  Mr.  Milton,  and 
Doctor  Verity  were  grouped  around  her  Highness  the 
Protector's  handsome  wife.  And  she  was  taking  their 
homage  as  naturally  as  she  had  been  used  to  take  attention 
in  her  simple  home  in  Ely,  being  more  troubled  about  the 
proper  serving  of  dinner  than  about  her  own  dignity.  She 
sat  at  the  Protector's  right  hand,  and  Jane  Swaffham  sat  at 
his  left. 

"  The  great  men  must  scatter  themselves,  Jane,"  he 
said  ;  "  my  daughter  Dorothy  Cromwell  wants  to  be  near 
Mr.  Milton,  and  Lady  Claypole  will  have  none  but  Doctor 
Owen,  and  one  way  or  another,  you  will  have  to  be  con 
tent  with  my  company,"  and  he  laid  her  hand  under  his 
hand,  and  smiled  down  into  her  face  with  a  fatherly 
affection. 

He  was  in  an  unusually  happy  mood,  and  Doctor  Owen 
remarking  it,  Admiral  Blake  said,  "  They  had  been  mobbed 
— mobbed  by  women — and  the  Protector  had  the  best  of  it, 
and  that  was  a  thing  to  pleasure  any  man."  Then  Mrs. 
Cromwell  laughed  and  said, 

"  Your   Highness   must  tell   us   all   now,  or  we  shall  be 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  317 

very  discontented.  Where  were  you,  to  meet  a  mob  of 
women  ?  " 

"  We  were  in  London  streets,  somewhere  near  the 
waterside.  Blake  was  with  me,  and  Blake  is  going  to 
Portsmouth  to  take  command  of  an  expedition." 

"  Where  to  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Claypole. 

"  Well,  Elizabeth,  that  is  precisely  the  question  this 
mob  of  women  wanted  me  to  answer.  You  are  as  bad  as 
they  were.  But  they  had  some  excuse." 

"  Pray  what  excuse,  sir,  that  I  have  not  ?  " 

"  They  were  the  wives  of  the  sailor  men  going  with  our 
Admiral  on  his  expedition.  And  they  got  all  round  me, 
they  did  indeed  :  and  one  handsome  woman  with  a  little 
lad  in  her  arms — she  told  me  to  look  well  at  him  because 
he  was  called  Oliver  after  me — took  hold  of  my  bridle, 
and  said,  'You  won't  trample  me  down,  General,  for  the 
lad's  sake;  and  'tis  but  natural  for  us  to  want  to  know 
where  you  are  sending  our  husbands.  Come,  General,  tell 
us  wives  and  mothers  where  the  ships  are  going  to  ? '  And 
there  was  Robert  Blake  laughing  and  thinking  it  fine  sport, 
but  I  stood  up  in  my  stirrups  and  called  out  as  loud  as  I 
could,  '  Women,  can  you  be  quiet  for  one  minute  ? '  They 
said,  '  Aye,  to  be  sure  we  can,  if  you'll  speak  out,  General.' 
Then  I  said  to  them,  '  You  want  to  know  where  the  ships 
and  your  men  are  going.  Listen  to  me!  The  Ambassadors 
of  France  and  Spain  would,  each  of  them,  give  a  million 
pounds  to  know  that.  Do  you  understand,  women  ?  ' 
And  for  a  moment  there  was  a  dead  silence,  then  a 
shout  of  comprehension  and  laughter,  and  the  woman  at 
my  bridle  lifted  the  boy  Oliver  to  me,  and  I  took  him  in 
my  arms  and  kissed  the  rosy  little  brat,  and  then  another 
shout,  and  the  mother  said,  '  General,  you  be  right  welcome 
to  my  share  of  the  secret ;  '  '  and  mine  !  '  '  and  mine  !  ' 


3i8  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

4  and  mine ! '  they  all  shouted,  and  the  voices  of  those 
women  went  to  my  heart  and  brain  like  wine,  they  did  that. 
They  made  me  glad  ;  I  believe  I  shouted  with  them." 

"  I  haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  Doctor  Verity.  "  Well, 
Robert,  did  they  have  nothing  to  say  to  you  ?  "  he  asked, 
turning  to  Admiral  Blake. 

"  They  asked  me  to  treat  my  men  well ;  and  I  said,  '  I'll 
treat  them  like  myself.  I'll  give  them  plenty  of  meat  and 
drink,  and  plenty  of  fighting  and  prize  money  ; '  and  so  to 
their  good  will  we  passed  all  through  the  city,  and,  as  I  live, 
'twas  the  pleasantest  '  progress  '  any  mortal  men  could  de 
sire." 

Then  Doctor  Verity  began  to  talk  of  the  American 
Colonies,  and  their  wonderful  growth.  "  John  Maidstone 
is  here,"  he  said  ;  "  and  with  him  that  godly  minister,  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Hooker.  We  have  had  much  conversation  to 
day,  and  surely  God  made  the  New  World  to  comfort  the 
woes  of  the  old  one." 

"  You  have  expressed  exactly,  sir,  the  prophetic  lines  of 
the  pagan  poet,  Horace,"  answered  Mr.  Milton.  And 
Cromwell  looked  at  him  and  said,  "  Repeat  them  for  us, 
John ;  I  doubt  not  but  they  are  worthy,  if  it  be  so  that 
you  remember  them."  Then  Milton,  in  a  clear  and  stately 
manner,  recited  the  six  lines  from  Horace's  "  Patriotic  La 
ment"  to  which  he  had  referred  — 

"  '  Merciful  gift  of  a  relenting  God, 

Home  of  the  homeless,  preordained  for  you, 

Last  vestige  of  the  age  of  gold, 

Last  refuge  of  the  good  and  bold  ; 
From  stars  malign,  from  plague  and  tempests  free, 
Far  'mid  the  Western  waves,  a  secret  Sanctuary.'  " 

And    as    Cromwell    listened   his    face  grew   luminous ;    he 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  319 

seemed  to  look  through  his  eyeballs,  rather  than  with 
them,  and  when  Milton  ceased  there  was  silence  until  he 
spoke. 

"  I  see,"  he  said,  "  a  great  people,  a  vast  empire,  from 
the  loins  of  all  nations  it  shall  spring.  And  there  shall  he 
no  king  there.  But  the  desire  of  all  hearts  shall  be  to 
wards  it,  and  it  shall  be  a  covert  for  the  oppressed,  and 
bread  and  wine  and  meat  for  those  ready  to  perish."  Then, 
sighing,  he  seemed  to  realise  the  near  and  the  present,  and 
he  added,  "  'Twas  but  yesterday  I  wrote  to  that  good  man, 
the  Rev.  John  Cotton  of  Boston.  I  have  told  him  that  I 
am  truly  ready  to  serve  him  and  the  rest  of  the  brethren, 
and  the  churches  with  him.  And  Doctor  Verity,  I  wish 
much  to  have  some  talk  with  Mr.  Hooker.  I  have  a  pur 
pose  to  ask  him  to  be  my  chaplain,  if  he  be  so  minded,  for 
his  sermons  first  tauirht  me  that  I  had  a  soul  to  save,  and 

O  ' 

that  I  must  transact  that  business  directly  with  God,  and 
not  through  any  church  or  clergy."  And  when  Cromwell 
made  this  statement,  he  little  realised  that  Hooker,  found 
ing  a  democracy  in  America,  and  he  himself  fighting  for  a 
free  Parliament  and  a  constitutionally  limited  executive  in 
England,  were  "  both  of  them  of  the  same  spirit  and  pur 
pose  "  ;  and  that  the  Hartford  minister  and  the  Huntingdon 
gentleman  were  preeminently  the  leaders  in  that  great 
movement  of  the  seventeenth  century  which  made  the 
United  States,  and  is  now  transforming  England. 

Doctor  Verity  shook  his  head  at  the  mention  of  the 
Chaplainship.  "  Your  Highness  will  give  great  offense  to 
some  not  of  Mr.  Hooker's  precise  way  of  thinking,"  he 
said. 

"  I  care  not,  John  Verity,"  Oliver  answered  with  much 
warmth;  "one  creed  must  not  trample  upon  the  heels  of 
another  creed  ;  Independents  must  not  despise  those  under 


320 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


baptism,  and  revile  them.  I  will  not  suffer  it.  Even  to 
Quakers,  we  must  wish  no  more  harm  than  we  do  our  own 
souls." 

With  these  words  he  rose  from  the  table,  and  Mr.  Mil 
ton,  the  Ladies  Mary  and  Frances  Cromwell,  and  Jane 
Swaffham  went  into  the  great  hall,  where  there  was  an  ex 
ceedingly  fine  organ.  In  a  short  time  Mr.  Milton  began  to 
play  and  to  sing,  but  the  girls  walked  up  and  down  talking 
to  Jane  of  their  admirers,  and  their  new  gowns,  and  of 
love-letters  that  had  been  sent  them  in  baskets  of  flowers. 
And  what  song  can  equal  the  one  we  sing,  or  talk,  about 
our  own  affairs  ?  Mr.  Milton's  glorious  voice  rose  and  fell 
to  incomparable  melodies,  but  Jane's  hand-clasp  was  so 
friendlike,  and  her  face  and  words  so  sympathetic,  that  the 
two  girls  heard  only  their  own  chatter,  and  knew  not  that 
the  greatest  of  English  poets  was  singing  with  enchanting 
sweetness  the  songs  of  Lodge,  and  Raleigh,  and  Drayton. 

But  Cromwell  knew  it;  he  came  to  the  entrance  fre 
quently  and  listened,  and  then  went  back  to  the  group  by 
the  hearth,  who  were  smoking  and  talking  of  the  glorious 
liberating  movements  of  the  century — the  Commonwealth 
in  England,  and  the  free  commonwealths  Englishmen  were 
planting  beyond  the  great  seas.  If  the  first  should  fail, 
there  would  still  be  left  to  unslavish  souls  the  freedom  of 
the  illimitable  western  wilderness. 

When  the  music  ceased,  the  evening  was  far  spent ;  and 
Cromwell  said  as  he  drew  Frances  and  Jane  within  his 
arms,  "  Bring  me  the  Bible,  Mary.  Mr.  Milton  has  been 
giving  us  English  song,  now  we  will  have  the  loftier  music 
of  King  David." 

"  And  we  shall  get  no  grander  music,  sir,"  said  Doctor 
Owen,  "  than  is  to  be  found  in  the  Bible.  Sublimity  is  He 
brew  by  birth.  We  must  go  to  the  Holy  Book  for  words 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  321 

beyond  our  words.      Is  there  a  man  living  who  could  have 
written  that   glorious    Hvmn, 

O  j  ' 

ctt  Lord,  Thou  hast  been  our  dwelling-place  in  all  genera 
tions  ; 

" '  Before    the    mountains    were    brought  forth,  or  ever 

O  ' 

Thou   hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world ;  even   from 
everlasting  to  everlasting  Thou  art  God  '  ?  " 

O  O 

"  The  prophets  also,"  said  Doctor  Verity,  "  were  poets, 
and  of  the  highest  order.  Turn  to  Habakkuk,  the  third 
chapter,  and  consider  his  description  of  the  Holy  One 
coming  from  Mount  Parem :  l  His  glory  covered  the 
heavens.  His  brightness  was  as  the  light.  He  stood  and 
measured  the  earth  :  He  beheld  and  drove  asunder  the  na 
tions  :  the  everlasting  mountains  were  scattered,  the  per 
petual  hills  did  bow.'  And  most  striking  of  all  about  this 
Holy  One — 'Thou  didst  cleave  the  earth  with  rivers.'' 

Cromwell  did  not  answer;  he  was  turning  the  leaves  of 
the  dear,  homely-looking  volume  which  his  daughter  had 
laid  before  him.  She  hung  affectionately  over  his  shoulder, 
and  when  he  had  found  what  he  wanted,  he  looked  up  at  her, 
and  she  smiled  and  nodded  her  approbation.  Then  he  said, 

u  Truly,  I  think  no  mortal  pen  but  St.  John's  could  have 
written  these  lines  ;  and  I  give  not  St.  John  the  honour, 
for  the  Holy  One  must  have  put  them  into  his  heart,  and 
the  hand  of  his  angel  guided  his  pen."  And  he  began  to 
read,  and  the  words  fell  like  a  splendid  vision,  and  a  great 
awe  filled  the  room  as  they  dropped  from  Cromwell's  lips  : 

"  '  And  I  saw  heaven  opened,  and  beheld  a  white  horse  ; 
and  he  that  sat  upon  him  was  called  Faithful  and  True, 
and  in  righteousness  he  doth  judge  and  make  war. 

"  '  His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  lire,  and  on  his  head  were 
many  crowns  ;  and  he  had  a  name  written,  that  no  man 
knew  but  himself. 


322 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


"'And  he  was  clothed  with  a  vesture  dipped  in  blood: 
and  his  name  is  called  The  Word  of  God. 

"  '  And  the  armies  which  were  in  heaven  followed  him 
upon  white  horses,  clothed  in  fine  linen,  white  and  clean. 

" '  And  out  of  his  mouth  goeth  a  sharp  sword,  that  with 
it  he  should  smite  the  nations ;  and  he  shall  rule  them  with 
a  rod  of  iron  ;  and  he  treadeth  the  wine-press  of  the  fierce 
ness  and  wrath  of  Almighty  God.' ' 

And  when  he  finished  these  words  he  cried  out  in  a  trans 
port,  "  Suffer  Thy  servant,  oh,  Faithful  and  True,  when 
his  warfare  here  is  accomplished,  to  be  among  the  armies 
which  are  in  heaven  following  the  Word  of  God  upon  white 
horses  clothed  in  fine  linen  white  and  clean."  And  then 
turning  the  leaf  of  the  Bible  he  said  with  an  unconceivable 
solemnity,  "  Read  now  what  is  written  in  Revelations,  chap 
ter  2oth,  11-15  verses: 

"l  And  I  saw  a  great  white  throne,  and  him  that  sat  on 
it,  from  whose  face  the  earth  and  the  heaven  fled  away  ; 
and  there  was  found  no  place  for  them. 

" '  And  I  saw  the  dead,  small  and  great,  stand  before 
God  ;  and  the  books  were  opened  ;  and  another  book  was 
opened,  which  is  the  book  of  life  :  and  the  dead  were  judged 
out  of  those  things  which  were  written  in  the  books,  ac 
cording  to  their  works. 

"  '  And  death  and  hell  were  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire. 
This  is  the  second  death.'  " 

And  when  he  ceased  there  was  a  silence  that  could  be 
felt,  a  silence  almost  painful,  ere  Dr.  Owen's  silvery  voice 
penetrated  it  with  the  words  of  the  Benediction.  Then  the 
Protector  and  Mrs.  Cromwell  kissed  the  girls,  and  the  cler 
gymen  blessed  them,  and  they  went  to  their  rooms  as  from 
the  very  presence  of  God. 

But  Mrs.  Cromwell  lingered  a  long  time.     She  could  not 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  323 

rest  until  she  had  seen  the  silver  and  crystal  and  fine  damask 
put  away  in  safety  ;  and  she  thought  it  no  shame  to  look — 
as  her  Lord  did — after  the  fragments  of  the  abundant  din 
ner. 

"  I  will  not  have  them  wasted,"  she  said  to  the  steward, 
"  nor  given  to  those  who  need  them  not.  The  Lady  Eliza 
beth  hath  a  list  of  poor  families,  and  it  is  my  will  that  they, 
and  they  only,  are  served." 

Then  she  went  to  her  daughter  Claypole's  apartments, 
and  talked  with  her  about  her  children,  and  her  health  ; 
also  about  the  disorders  and  thieving  of  the  servants, 
wrong-doings,  which  caused  her  orderly,  careful  nature 
much  grief  and  perplexity.  Elizabeth  was  her  comforter 
and  councilor,  and  the  good  daughter  generally  managed  to 
infuse  into  her  mother's  heart  a  serene  trust,  that  with  all 
its  expense  and  inefficiencies  the  household  was  conducted 
on  as  moderate  a  scale  as  was  consistent  with  her  father's 
dignity. 

When  they  parted  it  was  very  late  ;  the  palace  was  dark 
and  still,  and  Mrs.  Cromwell,  with  careful  economies  in  her 
mind,  and  a  candle  in  her  hand,  went  softly  along  the  lonely, 
gloomy  corridors — the  very  same  corridors  that  a  few  years 
before  had  been  the  lodging-place  of  the  Queen's  thirty 
priests  and  her  seventy-five  French  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
Flad  it  been  the  war-like  Oliver  thus  treading  in  their  foot 
steps,  he  would  have  thought  of  these  things,  and  seen  with 
spiritual  vision  the  black-robed  Jesuits  slipping  noiselessly 
along  ;  he  would  have  seen  the  painted,  curled,  beribboned, 
scented  men  and  women  of  that  period  ;  and  he  would  also 
have  remembered  the  insults  offered  the  Queen  and  her 
English  attendants  by  the  black  and  motley  crew,  ere  the 
King  in  a  rage  ordered  them  all  off"  English  soil.  And  'tis 
like  enough  he  would  have  said  to  himself,  "  If  Charles 


324 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


Stuart  had  been  on  all  occasions  as  straightforward  and  pos 
itive  as  he  was  on  that  one,  he  had  been  King  of  England 
yet."  But  Elizabeth  Cromwell  did  not  either  see  or  re 
member.  Her  little  grandson  had  a  slight  fever;  she  was 
not  satisfied  with  her  daughter's  health,  and  the  care  of  the 
great  househeld  she  ruled  was  a  burden  she  never  wholly 
laid  down.  In  this  vast,  melancholy  pile  of  chambers,  she 
thought  of  her  simple  home  in  St.  Ives  with  longing  and 
affection.  Royal  splendours  had  given  her  nothing  she 
cared  for;  and  they  had  taken  from  her  the  constant  help 
and  companionship  that  in  humbler  circumstances  her  good, 
great  husband  had  given  her. 

She  paused  a  moment  before  the  door  of  his  room.  She 
wondered  if  he  was  asleep.  If  so,  she  would  on  no  ac 
count  awaken  him,  for  in  these  days  he  slept  far  too  little. 
All  was  still  as  death,  but  yet  something  of  the  man's  in 
tense  personality  escaped  the  closed  door.  The  giant  soul 
within  was  busy  with  heart  and  brain,  and  the  subtile  life 
evolved  found  her  out.  Quiet  as  the  room  was,  it  was  not 
quiet  enough  for  Oliver  to  be  asleep.  She  opened  the  door 
softly  and  saw  him  sitting  motionless  by  the  fire,  his  eyes 
closed,  his  massive  form  upright  and  perfectly  at  rest. 

"Oliver,"  she  said,  "dear  Oliver,  you  ought  to  be  in 
bed  and  asleep." 

His  great  darkling  soul  flashed  into  his  face  a  look  of 
tenderest  love.  "  Elizabeth,"  he  answered,  "  I  wish  that 
I  could  sleep.  I  do  indeed.  I  need  it.  God  knows  I 
need  it,  but  my  heart  wakes,  and  I  do  fear  it  will  wake  this 
night — if  so,  there  is  no  sleep  for  me.  You  see,  dearest, 
how  God  mingles  our  cup.  When  I  was  Mr.  Cromwell, 
I  could  sleep  from  night  till  morning.  When  I  was  Gen 
eral  Cromwell,  my  labours  gave  me  rest.  Now  that  I  am 
Lord  Protector  of  three  Kingdoms,  sleep,  alas  !  is  gone  far 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  325 

from  me  !  In  my  mind  I  run  to  and  fro  through  all  the 
land.  I  have  a  thousand  plans  and  anxieties,  Elizabeth,  my 
dearest ;  great  place  is  not  worth  looking  after.  It  is  not." 

"  But  if  beyond  our  will  we  be  led  into  great  place  and 
great  honour,  Oliver?  " 

"  That  is  my  comfort.  I  brought  not  myself  here  ;  no, 
truly,  that  would  be  an  incredible  thing.  Once,  my  God 
led  me  in  green  pastures  and  by  still  waters,  and  I  was 
happy  with  my  Shepherd.  Then  He  called  me  to  be  Cap 
tain  of  Israel's  host,  and  He  went  before  me  in  every  battle 
and  gave  me  the  victory.  Now,  He  has  set  me  here  as 
Protector  of  a  people  who  know  not  yet  what  they  want. 
Aioses  leading  those  stiff-necked,  self-willed  Israelites  was 
not  harder  bestead  than  I  am,  trying  to  lead  men  just  as 
stiff-necked  out  of  victory  into  freedom.  Every  one  thinks 
freedom  means  '  his  way,  and  no  other  way,'  and  they  break 
my  heart  with  their  jealousies  and  envyings,  and  their  want 
of  confidence  in  me  and  in  each  other.  Yet  I  struggle 
day  and  night  to  do  the  work  set  me  as  well  as  mortal  man 
may  do  it." 

"  What  troubles  you  in  particular,  Oliver  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  things  that  troubled  my  Great  Master, 
when  He  wept  and  prayed  and  fainted  in  Gethsemane. 
Pie  knew  that  those  whom  He  loved  and  who  ought  to 
strengthen  and  comfort  Flim,  would  soon  forsake  and  flee 
from  Him.  I  think  of  the  men  who  have  trusted  me  to 
lead  them  in  every  battle  ;  who  never  found  me  wanting  ; 
the  men  with  whom  I  have  taken  counsel,  with  whom  I 
have  prayed  ;  the  men  who  were  to  me  as  Jonathan  to 
David;  and  when  I  think  of  them,  my  heart  is  like  to 
burst  in  twain.  They  are  beginning  to  forsake  me,  to  flee 
from  me,  and  their  cold  looks  and  formal  words  hurt  me 
Mke  a  sword  thrust  ;  they  do,  Elizabeth,  they  do  indeed." 


326  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  But  see  how  God  cares  for  you.  Charles  Stuart  and 
his  men  spend  their  time  in  devising  plots  to  kill  you,  and 
they  are  always  prevented." 

"  I  care  nothing  about  Charles  Stuart  and  the  men  with 
him.  They  can  do  nothing  against  me.  My  life  is  hid 
with  Christ  in  God,  and  until  my  work  is  done,  there  is  no 
weapon  formed  that  can  hurt  me.  I  say  this,  for  I  do 
know  it.  And  when  I  have  fulfilled  all  His  Will,  I  shall 
not  be  dismissed  from  life  by  any  man's  hatred.  God  Him 
self  will  have  a  desire  for  the  work  of  His  Hand  ;  He  will 
call  me,  and  I  will  answer.  That  will  be  a  good  day, 
Elizabeth,  for  I  am  weary — weary  and  sorrowful,  even 
unto  death." 

"  If  you  had  made  yourself  King,  as  you  might  have 
done,  as  you  ought  to  have  done,  you  would  have  had  less 
opposition.  John  Verity  said  so  to  me.  He  said  English 
men  were  used  to  a  king,  but  they  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  a  protector." 

"  King  !  King  !  I  am  king  in  very  truth,  call  me  what 
they  like.  And  for  that  matter,  why  should  I  not  be  king  ? 
Doctor  Owen  tells  me  the  word  king  comes  from  Konig 
and  means  '  the  man  that  can.'  I  am  that  man.  Every 
king  in  Europe  came  from  some  battle-field,  that  was  their 
first  title  to  kingship.  Our  William,  called  the  Conqueror, 
won  the  Kingdom  of  England  by  one  successful  battle. 
How  many  battles  have  I  fought  and  won  ?  I  never  lost 
a  single  field — how  could  I,  the  Lord  of  Hosts  being  with 
me  ?  As  a  hero  of  battle,  there  is  no  man  to  stand  before 
me.  Why  should  I  not  be  king  over  the  three  countries  I 
have  conquered  ?  My  title  to  kingship  is  as  good  as  any 
ruler  I  know.  And  perhaps  —  who  can  tell — had  I 
crowned  myself,  it  had  been  a  settlement  much  needed. 
John  Verity  is  right.  Englishmen  think  a  protector  is  a 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  327 

ruler  for  emergency.  They  feel  temporary  and  uncertain 
with  a  protector.  A  kingship  is  a  settled  office.  The 
laws  are  full  of  the  king  ;  they  do  not  name  a  protector — 
and  men  feel  to  the  law  as  they  do  to  a  god." 

"  Take  the  crown,  Oliver.      Why  not  ?  " 

"  t  have  no  orders  to  take  it.  My  angel  told  me  when 
I  was  a  boy,  that  I  should  become  the  greatest  man  in 
England,  but  he  said  not  that  I  should  be  king.  And 
I  know  also  from  One  who  never  lied  to  me,  that  this 
nation  will  yearn  after  its  old  monarchy.  I  am  here  to  do 
a  work,  to  sow  seeds  that  will  take  generations  to  ripen, 
but  my  reign  is  only  an  interregnum.  I  shall  found  no 
dynasty." 

"  Oh,  Oliver  !     You  have  two  sons." 

"  Richard  cannot  manage  his  own  house  and  servants. 
Harry  is  a  good  lieutenant ;  he  can  carry  out  instructions, 
it  is  doubtful  if  he  could  lead.  My  desire  for  my  sons  is, 
that  they  live  private  lives  in  the  country.  I  know  what  I 
know.  I  have  what  I  have.  The  crown  of  England  is 
not  to  be  worn  by  me,  nor  do  I  want  it  ;  I  do  not — neither 
for  myself  nor  my  children."  Then  taking  his  wife's 
hand  tenderly  between  his  own,  he  said  with  intense 
fervour,  "  There  is  not  a  man  living  can  say  I  sought  this 
place — not  a  man  or  woman  living  on  English  ground.  I 
can  say  in  the  presence  of  God,  I  would  have  been  glad  to 
have  lived  with  thee  under  my  woodside  all  the  days  of 
my  life,  and  to  have  kept  my  sheep  and  ploughed  my  land 
rather  than  bear  the  burden  of  this  government." 

"  Do  you  think  the  Puritan  government  will  die  with 
you,  Oliver  ?  " 

"I  think  it  will  ;  but  the  Puritan  principles  will  never 
die.  The  kings  of  the  earth  banded  together  cannot  de 
stroy  them.  They  will  spring  up  and  flourish  like  'the 


328  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

grass  that  tarrieth  not  for  man  ' — spring  where  none  has 
sowed  or  planted  them — spring  in  the  wilderness  and  in  the 
city,  until  they  possess  the  whole  earth.  This  I  know,  and 
am  sure  of." 

"  Then  why  are  you  so  sad  ?  " 

"  I  want  my  old  friends  to  trust  in  me  and  love  me. 
Power  is  a  poor  exchange  for  love.  I  want  Lambert  and 
Harrison  and  Ludlow  and  the  others  to  be  at  my  right 
hand,  as  they  used  to  be.  Ludlow  tells  me  plainly,  he 
only  submits  to  my  government  because  he  can't  help  him 
self;  and  Harrison,  who  used  to  pray  with  me,  now  prays 
against  me.  Oh,  Elizabeth,  you  know  not  how  these  men 
wound  me  at  every  turn  of  my  life ! " 

"  Oh,  indeed,  Oliver,  do  you  think  the  women  are  any 
thing  behind  them  ?  I  could  tell  you  some  things  I  have 
had  to  suffer,  and  the  poor  girls  also.  What  have  they  not 
said  of  me  ?  Indeed  I  have  shed  some  tears,  and  been 
sorely  mortified.  The  women  I  knew  in  the  old  days,  do 
they  come  near  me  ?  They  do  not.  Even  if  I  ask  them, 
they  are  sick,  or  they  are  gone  away,  or  their  time  is  in 
some  respect  forespoken.  It  is  always  so.  Only  little  Jane 
Swaffham  keeps  the  same  sweet  friendship  with  us.  I  say 
not  that  much  for  Martha  SwafFham.  Very  seldom  she 
comes  at  my  request— and  I  have  a  right  now  to  request, 
and  she  has  the  obligation  to  accept.  Is  not  that  so, 
Oliver  ?  But  she  thinks  herself " 

"Never  mind  Martha  SwafFham  ;  Israel  stands  firm  as  a 
rock  by  me.  After  all,  Elizabeth,  there  is  nothing  got  by 
this  world's  love,  and  nothing  lost  by  its  hate.  This  is 
the  root  of  the  matter :  my  position  as  Protector  is  either 
of  God,  or  of  man.  If  I  did  not  firmly  believe  it  was  of 
God,  I  would  have  run  away  from  it  many  years  ago.  If 
it  be  of  God,  He  will  bear  me  up  while  I  am  in  it.  If  it 


A  LITTLE  FURTHER  ON  3-9 

be  of  man  it  will  shake  and  tumble.  What  are  all  our 
histories  but  God  manifesting  that  He  has  shaken  and 
trampled  upon  everything  He  has  not  planted  ?  So,  then, 
if  the  Lord  take  pleasure  in  England,  we  shall  in  His 
strength  be  strong.  I  bless  God  I  have  been  inured  to 
difficulties,  and  I  never  yet  found  God  failing  when  I  trusted 
in  Him.  Never!  Yea,  when  I  think  of  His  help  in  Scot 
land,  in  Ireland,  in  England,  I  can  laugh  and  sing  in  my 
soul.  I  can,  indeed  I  can  !  " 

"  My  dearest,  you  are  now  in  a  good  mind.  Lie  down 
and  sleep  in  His  care,  for  He  does  care  for  you."  And 
she  put  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  kissed  him;  and  he 
answered, 

"Thou  art  my  comfort,  and  I  thank  God  for  thee ! 
When  He  laid  out  mv  life's  hard  work,  He  thought  of  thee 

j  *  O 

to  sweeten  it." 

She  left  him  then,  hoping  that  he  would  shelter  his 
weariness  in  darkness  and  in  sleep.  But  he  did  not.  The 
words  he  had  spoken,  though  so  full  of  hope  and  courage, 
wanted  that  authentication  from  beyond,  without  which 
they  were  as  tinkling  brass  to  Oliver.  He  locked  his 
chamber  door,  retired  his  soul  from  all  visibles,  and  stood 
solemnly  before  God,  waiting  to  hear  what  He  would  say 
to  him.  For  the  soul  looks  two  ways,  inward  as  well  as 
outward,  and  Oliver's  soul  gazed  with  passionate  spiritual 
desire  into  that  interior  and  permanent  part  of  his  nature, 
wherein  the  Divine  dwells — that  inner  world  of  illimitable 
calm,  apart  from  the  sphere  of  our  sorrowful  unrest.  And 
in  a  moment  all  the  trouble  of  outward  things  grew  at 
peace  with  that  within  ;  for  he  stood  motionless  on  that 
dazzling  line  where  mortal  and  immortal  verge — that  line 
where  all  is  lost  in  love  for  God,  and  the  bennar  Self  for- 

'  CO 

";ets  to  ask  for  anything;.      The   austere   sweetness  of  sacri- 


330  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

fice  filled  his  soul.  The  divine  Hymn  of  Renunciation 
was  on  his  lips. 

"  Do  as  Thou  wilt  with  me,"  he  cried,  "  but,  oh,  that  I 
knew  where  to  find  Thee  !  Oh,  that  I  might  come  into  Thy 
presence  !  " 

Then  there  was  suddenly  granted  to  his  longing  that 
open  vision,  open  only  to  the  spirit,  that  wondrous  evi 
dence  that  very  near  about  us  lies  the  realm  of  spiritual 
mysteries,  and  the  strong  man  bowed  and  wept  great  tears 
of  joy  and  sorrow.  And  after  that  Peace — peace  unspeak 
able  and  full  of  gladness  ;  and  he  slept  like  a  sinless  child 
while  his  angel  came  in  a  dream  and  'comforted  him.  For 
so  God  giveth  to  His  beloved  while  they  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE 

"  From  heaven  did  the  Lord  behold  the  earth  ;  to  hear  the 
groaning  of  the  prisoner." — Ps.  102:  20. 

"  Make  haste  unto  me,  O  God  :  Thou  art  my  help  and  my  de 
liverer;  O  Lord  make  no  tarrying." — Ps.  70:  5. 

ON  tides  of  glory  England  was  borne  the  next  three 
years,  to  a  national  honour  and  strength  which  had  never 
before  been  dreamed  of.  Never  in  her  whole  history  had 
the  government  been  at  once  so  thorough  and  so  penetrated 
with  a  desire  for  honesty  and  capacity.  For  the  first  time, 
the  sense  of  social  duty  to  the  State  took  the  place  of  the 
old  spirit  of  loyalty  to  the  sovereign.  For  the  first  and 
only  time  in  the  history  of  Europe,  morality  and  religion 
were  the  qualifications  insisted  on  by  a  court ;  Oliver 
Cromwell  was  "  the  one  ruler  into  whose  presence  no  vicious 
man  could  ever  come,  whose  service  no  vicious  man  might 
enter." 

Abroad,  the  Red  Cross  of  England  was  flying  trium 
phantly  on  every  sea.  Blake's  mysterious  expedition  had  soon 
been  heard  from.  He  had  been  at  Leghorn,  getting  com 
pensation  in  money  for  English  vessels  sold  there  by  Prince 
Rupert.  He  had  been  thundering  almost  at  the  gates  of 
the  Vatican,  getting  twenty  thousand  pistoles  from  Pope 
Alexander  for  English  vessels  sold  in  the  Roman  See  by 
the  same  prince.  He  had  been  compelling  the  Grand  Duke 

331 


332  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

of  Tuscany  to  give  freedom  of  worship  to  Protestants  in 
his  dominions.  He  had  been  in  the  Barbary  States  de 
manding;  the  release  of  Christian  slaves,  and  getting  at 

O  y  O  O 

Algiers  and  Tripoli  all  he  asked.1  Hitherto,  naval  battles 
had  been  fought  out  at  sea ;  Blake  taught  Europe  that  fleets 
could  control  kingdoms  by  dominating  and  devastating  their 
seaboard.  While  opening  up  to  peaceful  commerce  the 
Mediterranean,  England  had  begun  a  war  with  Spain,  and 
Blake's  next  move  was  to  take  his  fleet  to  intercept  the 
Spanish  galleons  coming  loaded  with  gold  and  silver  from 
the  New  World.  His  first  seizure  on  this  voyage  was 
thirty-eight  wagon  loads  of  bullion,  which  he  brought  safely 
into  the  Thames,  and  which  went  reeling  through  the  old 
streets  of  London  to  the  cheerful  applause  of  the  multitude. 
Again,  under  the  old  peak  of  Teneriffe,  Blake  performed  an 
action  of  incredible  courage;  for,  finding  in  that  grand, 
eight-castled  and  unassailable  bay  sixteen  Spanish  ships 
laden  with  gold  and  silver,  lying  in  crescent  shape  under 
the  guns  of  the  eight  castles  and  forts,  he  took  his  fleet  di 
rectly  into  the  crescent,  and  amid  whirlwinds  of  fire  and 
iron  hail,  poured  his  broadsides  in  every  direction  and  left 
the  whole  sixteen  Spanish  ships  charred  and  burning  hulks. 
Indeed,  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Mediterranean,  from  Algiers 
to  Teneriffe,  from  Newfoundland  to  Jamaica,  the  thunder 
of  British  cannon  was  heard  and  obeyed. 

In  the  meantime  Spain  was  helping  Charles  with  money 
which  was  spent  in  plots  to  assassinate  the  Protector.  The 
effect  of  this  underhand,  contemptible  warfare  was  several 
petitions  and  addresses  offered  in  Parliament  begging  Crom 
well  to  assume  the  ancient  office  of  King,  if  only  for  the 
settlement  of  the  nation.  He  was  quite  strong  enough  to 

1  One  hundred  and  sixty  years  after  Blake's  punishment,  England  and 
America  united  to  finally  put  an  end  to  the  pirates  of  the  Mediterranean. 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       333 

have  taken  it,  and  there  was  nothing  unmanly  either  in  his 
desire  for  the  crown  or  in  his  refusal  of  it.  His  conscience, 
not  his  reason,  decided  the  question.  He  waited  many  a 
long,  anxious  night  on  his  knees  for  some  sign  or  token  of 
God's  approbation  of  the  kingship,  but  it  did  not  come  ; 
and  Cromwell  was  never  greater  than  when,  steadily,  and 
with  dignity,  he  put  the  glittering  bauble  aside  —  "  Because 

O  /   '  1  O  O 

for  it,  he  would  not  lose  a  friend,  or  even  a  servant."  Fie 
told  the  Parliamentary  committee  offering  him  the  title 
that  he  "held  it  as  a  feather  in  a  man's  cap;"  then  burst 
into  an  inspired  strain,  and  quoting  Luther's  psalm,  "  that 
rare  psalm  for  a  Christian,"  he  added,  "  if  Pope  and  Span 
iard  and  devil  set  themselves  against  us,  yet  the  Lord  of 
Flosts  is  with  us,  and  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge." 
One  thing  he  knew  well,  that  the  title  of  King  would  take 
all  meaning  out  of  the  Puritan  revolution,  and  he  could  not 
so  break  with  his  own  past,  with  his  own  spiritual  life,  and 
with  the  godly  men  who  had  so  faithfully  followed  and  so 
fully  trusted  him. 

Why  should  he  fret  himself  about  a  mere  word  ?  All 
real  power  was  in  his  hands  :  the  army  and  the  navy,  the 
churches  and  the  universities,  the  reform  and  administra 
tion  of  the  law,  the  government  of  Scotland  and  of  Ireland. 
Abroad,  the  war  with  all  its  details,  the  alliance  with  Sweden, 
with  France,  with  the  Protestant  princes  of  Germany, 
the  Protestant  Protectorate  extending  as  far  as  Transyl 
vania,  the  "  planting  "  of  the  West  Indies,  the  settlement 
of  the  American  Colonies,  and  their  defense  against  their 
rivals,  the  French, — all  these  subjects  were  Cromwell's  daily 
cares.  He  was  responsible  for  everything,  and  his  burden 
would  have  been  lightened,  if  he  could  have  conscientiously 
taken  on  him  the  "divinity  which  doth  hedge  a  king." 
The  English  people  love  what  they  know,  and  they  knew 


334 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


nothing  of  an  armed  Protector  making  laws  by  ordinance, 
and  disposing  of  events  by  rules  not  followed  by  their  an 
cestors.  But  Oliver  knew  that  he  would  cross  Destiny  if 
he  made  himself  King,  and  that  this  "crossing"  always 
means  crucifixion  of  some  kind. 

"  To  be  a  king  is  not  in  my  commission,"  he  said  to 
Doctor  Verity.  "  It  squares  not  with  my  call  or  my  con 
science.  I  will  not  fadge  with  the  question  again  ;  no,  not 
for  an  hour." 

The  commercial  and  national  glory  of  England  at  this 
time  were,  however,  in  a  manner  incidental  to  Oliver's 
great  object — the  Protection  of  Protestantism.  This  ob 
ject  was  the  apple  of  his  eye,  the  profoundest  desire  of  his 
soul.  He  would  have  put  himself  at  the  head  of  all  the 
Protestants  in  Europe,  if  he  could  have  united  them ;  fail 
ing  in  this  effort,  he  vowed  himself  to  cripple  the  evil 
authority  of  Rome  and  the  bloody  hands  of  Inquisitorial 
Spain.  His  sincerity  is  beyond  all  doubt;  even  Lingard, 
the  Roman  Catholic  historian,  says,  "  Dissembling  in  re 
ligion  is  contradicted  by  the  uniform  tenor  of  his  life."  He 
wrote  to  Blake  that,  "  The  Lord  had  a  controversy  with 
the  Romish  Babylon,  of  which  Spain  is  the  under-propper ;  " 
and  he  made  it  his  great  business  to  keep  guard  over  Prot 
estants,  and  to  put  it  out  of  the  power  of  princes  to  perse 
cute  them.  It  is  easy  to  say  such  a  Protestant  league  was 
behind  the  age.  It  was  not.  Had  it  been  secured,  the 
persecutions  of  the  Huguenots  would  not  have  taken  place, 
and  the  history  of  those  hapless  martyrs— still,  after  the 
lapse  of  two  hundred  years,  read  with  shuddering  indigna 
tion — would  have  been  very  different.  Cromwell  knew 
well  what  Popery  had  done  to  Brandeburg  and  Denmark, 
and  what  a  wilderness  it  had  made  of  Protestant  Germany, 
and  his  conception  of  duty  as  Protector  of  all  Protestants 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       335 

was  at  least  a  noble  one.  Nor  was  it  ineffective.  On  the 
very  day  he  should  have  signed  a  treaty  of  alliance  with 
France  against  Spain,  he  heard  of  the  unspeakably  cruel 
massacre  of  the  Vandois  Protestants.  He  threw  the  treaty 
passionately  aside,  and  refused  to  negotiate  further  until 
Louis  and  Mazarin  put  a  stop  to  the  brutalities  of  the  Duke 
of  Savoy.  As  the  details  were  told  him,  he  wept;  and  all 
England  wept  with  him.  Not  since  the  appalling  massacre 
of  Protestants  in  Ireland,  had  the  country  been  so  moved 
and  so  indignant.  Cromwell  instantly  gave  two  thousand 
pounds  for  the  sufferers  who  had  escaped,  and  one  hundred 
and  forty  thousand  pounds  was  collected  in  England  for  the 
same  purpose.  It  was  during  the  sorrowful  excitement  of 
this  time  that  Milton — now  blind — wrote  his  magnificent 
Sonnet, 

"  Avenge,  O  Lord,  Thy  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  Mountains  cold." 

Furthermore,  it  was  in  Milton's  luminous,  majestic  Latin 
prose  that  Cromwell  sent  his  demands  to  King  Louis  for 
these  poor,  pious  peasants, — demands  not  disregarded,  for 
all  that  could  be  found  alive  were  returned  to  their  deso 
lated  homes. 

For  the  persecuted  Jews  his  efforts  were  not  as  success 
ful.  They  had  been  banished  from  England  in  A.  D. 
1290,  but  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  years  of  obstinate 
prejudice  had  not  exhausted  Christian  bigotry.  Cromwell 
made  a  noble  speech  in  favour  of  their  return  to  England, 
but  the  learned  divines  and  lawyers  came  forward  to 
"  plead  and  conclude  "  against  their  admission,  and  Crom 
well,  seeing  no  legal  sanction  was  possible,  let  the  matter 
drop  for  a  time.  Yet  his  favour  towards  the  Jews  was  so 
distinct  that  a  company  of  Oriental  Jewish  priests  came  to 


336  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

England  to  investigate  the  Protector's  genealogy,  hoping  to 
find  in  him  "the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah." 

So  these  three  years  were  full  of  glory  and  romance,  and 
the  poorest  family  in  England  lived  through  an  epic  of  such 
national  grandeur  as  few  generations  have  witnessed.  Yet, 
amid  it  all,  the  simple  domestic  lives  of  men  and  women 
went  calmly  on,  and  birth,  marriage,  and  death  made  rich 
or  barren  their  homes.  Jane  Svvaffham  attained  in  their 
progress  to  a  serene  content  she  had  once  thought  impos 
sible.  But  God  has  appointed  Time  to  console  the  great 
est  afflictions,  and  she  had  long  been  able  to  think  of 
Cluny — not  as  lying  in  a  bloody  grave,  but  as  one  of  the 
Sons  of  God  among  the  Hosts  of  Heaven.  And  this  con 
solation  accepted,  she  had  begun  to  study  Latin  and  mathe 
matics  with  Doctor  Verity,  and  to  give  her  love  and  her 
service  to  all  whom  she  could  pleasure  or  help.  Indeed, 
she  had  almost  lived  with  the  Ladies  Mary  and  Frances 
Cromwell,  who  had  passed  through  much  annoyance  and 
suffering:  concerning  their  love  affairs.  But  these  were  now 

D  O 

happily  settled,  Lady  Mary  having  married  Viscount  Fan- 
conburs;,  and  Lady  Frances  the  lover  for  whom  she  had  so 

O '  J 

stubbornly  held  out — Mr.  Rich,  the  grandson  of  the   Earl 
of  Warwick. 

Aiatilda's  life  during  this  interval  had  been  cramped  and 
saddened  by  the  inheritance  from  her  previous  years. 
Really  loving  Cymlin,  she  could  not  disentangle  the  many 
threads  binding  her  to  the  old  unfortunate  passion,  for, 
having  become  wealthy,  the  Stuarts  would  not  resign  their 
claim  upon  her.  Never  had  they  needed  money  more  ; 
and  most  of  their  old  friends  had  been  denuded,  or  worn 
out  with  the  never-ceasing  demands  on  their  affection. 
Thus  she  was  compelled,  often  against  her  will,  to  be 
aware  of  plots  for  the  assassination  of  Cromwell — plots 


FATE  OF  FORD  CFUNY  NEVILLE       337 

which  shocked  her  moral  sense,  and  which  generally 
seemed  to  her  intelligence  exceedingly  foolish  and  useless. 
These  things  made  her  restless  and  unhappy,  for  she  could 
not  but  contrast  the  splendour  of  the  Protector's  character 
and  government  with  the  selfishness,  meanness  and  in 
capacity  of  the  Stuarts. 

She  loved  Cymlin,  but  she  feared  to  marry  him.  She 
feared  the  reproaches  of  Rupert,  who,  though  he  made  no 
effort  to  consummate  their  long  engagement,  was  furiously 
indignant  if  she  spoke  of  ending  it.  Then,  also,  she  had 
fears  connected  with  Cymlin.  When  very  young,  he  had 
begun  to  save  money  in  order  to  make  himself  a  possible 
suitor  for  Matilda's  hand.  His  whole  career  in  the  army 
had  looked  steadily  to  this  end.  In  the  Irish  campaign  he 
had  been  exceedingly  fortunate ;  he  had  bought  and  sold 
estates,  and  exchanged  prisoners  for  specie,  and  in  other 
ways  so  manipulated  his  chances  that  in  every  case  they 
had  left  behind  a  golden  residuum.  This  money  had  been 
again  invested  in  English  ventures,  and  in  all  cases  he  had 
been  signally  fortunate.  Jane  had  told  Matilda  two  years 
previously  that  Cymlin  was  richer  than  his  father,  and  she 
might  have  said  more  than  this  and  been  within  the  truth. 

But  in  this  rapid  accumulation  of  wealth,  Cymlin  had 
developed  the  love  of  wealth.  Fie  was  ever  on  the  alert 
for  financial  opportunities,  and,  though  generous  wherever 
Matilda  was  concerned,  not  to  be  trifled  with  if  his  interests 
were  in  danger.  So  Matilda  knew  that  if  she  would  carry 
out  her  intention  of  making  over  de  Wick  house  and  land 
to  Stephen,  it  must  be  done  before  she  married  Cymlin. 
Yet  if  she  surrendered  it  to  Stephen  under  present  circum 
stances,  everything  would  go,  in  some  way  or  other,  to  the 
needy,  beggarly  Stuart  Court.  If  Cromwell  were  only  out 
of  the  way  !  If  King  Charles  were  only  on  the  throne  ! 


978  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

\J  v> 

he  would  have  all  England  to  tax  and  tithe,  and  Stephen 
would  not  need  to  give  away  the  home  and  lands  of  his 
forefathers. 

She  was  fretfully  thinking  over  this  dilemma  in  its  rela 
tion  to  a  new  plot  against  Cromwell's  life,  when  Jane 
Swaffham  visited  her  one  morning  in  February  of  1658. 
Jane's  smiling  serenity  aggravated  her  restless  temper. 
"Does  nothing  on  earth  ever  give  you  an  unhappy  thought, 
Jane  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You  look  as  if  you  dwelt  in  Para 
dise." 

"  Indeed,  I  am  very  unhappy  this  morning,  Matilda. 
Mr.  Rich  is  thought  to  be  dying." 

u  And,  pray  heaven,  who  is  Mr.  Rich  ?  " 

"You  know  who  Mr.  Rich  is,  perfectly.  Why  do  you 
ask  such  a  foolish  question  ?  Lady  Frances  is  broken 
hearted.  I  am  going  now  to  Whitehall.  The  Cromwells 
are  in  the  greatest  distress." 

"  On  my  word,  they  have  kept  others  in  the  greatest 
distress  for  many  years  !  I  am  not  sorry  for  them." 

"  I  only  called  to  tell  you  there  is  another  plot." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"  Some  one  you  know  may  be  in  danger." 

"  Stephen  is  at  Cologne.  If  you  are  thinking  of  Stephen, 
thank  you.  I  will  write  and  tell  him  to  keep  good  hope  in 
his  heart,  that  Jane  Swaffham  remembers  him." 

"  Dear  Matilda,  do  not  make  a  mock  of  my  kindness. 
The  Protector's  patience  is  worn  out  with  this  foolish  ani 
mosity.  He  is  generous  and  merciful  to  no  purpose.  I 
myself  think  it  is  high  time  he  ceased  to  warn,  and  begin 
to  punish.  And  poor  Lady  Rich  !  It  would  grieve  you  to 
the  heart  to  see  her  despair.  She  has  only  been  three 
months  married,  and  it  was  such  a  true  love  match." 

"Indeed  it  was  a  very  'good'  match,  love  match  or  not. 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       339 

Frances  Cromwell  to  be  Countess  of  Warwick.  Faith, 
'tis  most  easy  to  fall  in  love  with  that  state  !  " 

"She  might  have  chosen  far  greater  state;  you  know  it, 
Matilda.  She  was  sought  by  Charles  Stuart,  and  by  the 
Duke  Enghien,  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  by 
the  Protector's  ward,  William  Dutton,  the  richest  young 
man  in  England  ;  but  for  love  of  Mr.  Rich,  and  in  spite 
of  her  father's  long  opposition,  she  would  marry  no  one 
else." 

"  Mr.  Rich  was  good  enough  for  her,  surely  !  " 

"  Her  father  did  not  think  so.  There  were  reports  of 
his  drinking  and  gaming." 

"  And  the  Puritan  Dove  must  not,  of  course,  marry  a 
man  who  threw  dice  or  drained  a  glass.  Those  are  the 
works  of  the  profane  and  wicked  malignants.  However 
was  the  marriage  made  at  all  ?  " 

O 

"You  know  all  about  it,  Matilda.  What  is  the  use  of 
pretending  ignorance  ?  " 

"  My  dear  sweet  Jane,  do  you  think  I  keep  the  Crom 
well  girls  and  their  affairs  in  my  memory  ?  They  are  in 
their  kingdom  now  ;  I  do  not  pretend  to  keep  foot  with 
them — and  I  have  troubles  of  my  own  ;  pray  God  they  be 
not  too  many  for  me  !  " 

It  was  evident  Matilda  was  not  in  an  amiable  mood,  and 
Jane  having  said  the  few  words  that  brought  her  to  Jevery 
House  that  morning,  left  her  friend.  She  went  away  with 
a  troubled  look,  and  Matilda  watched  the  change  and 
smiled  to  herself  at  it.  "  I  am  quite  content  to  have  her 
made  a  little  unhappy,"  she  thought;  "her  constant  air  of 
satisfaction  is  insufferable.  And  if  my  Lady  Rich  loses  her 
husband,  Jane  can  assure  her  that  such  griefs  do  not  kill. 
On  my  honour !  Jane  looks  younger  and  prctti-'r  than 
when  Neville  was  alive  and  worrying  her.  Lovers  die  and 


340  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

husbands  die,  and  'tis  a  common  calamity ;  and  better  peo 
ple  than  either  Jane  or  Frances  have  endured  it.  I  will  go 
now  to  my  aunt's  parlour;  I  dare  say  she  will  have  some 
visitor  chock  full  of  the  new  plot — and  I  may  hear  some 
thing  worth  while." 

These  thoughts  filled  her  mind  as  she  went  to  Lady 
Jevery's  parlour.  She  found  there  an  acquaintance  whom 
they  had  known  in  Paris,  the  Countess  Gervais. 

"I  have  but  now  sent  a  messenger  for  you,  Matilda," 
said  Lady  Jevery ;  "  the  Countess  desired  greatly  to  see 
you."  Then  the  conversation  became  reminiscent,  and 
the  new  plot  was  not  named,  and  Matilda  began  to  be 
bored.  Suddenly,  however,  her  interest  was  roused  to  the 
highest  pitch,  for  the  Countess,  touching  a  bracelet  which 
Lady  Jevery  wore,  said, 

"  I  must  tell  you  a  strange  thing.  I  was  lately  at  a  din 
ner  where  the  niece  of  his  Eminence,  Cardinal  Mazarin,  sat 
at  my  side.  And  she  wore  a  necklace  and  brooch  and  one 
bracelet  precisely  like  the  bracelet  you  are  now  wearing.  I 
cannot  help  noticing  the  circumstance,  because  the  jewelry 
is  so  exceedingly  singular  and  beautiful." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Lady  Jevery.  "  And  what  you  say  is 
also  very  curious,  for  I  once  possessed  a  necklace,  brooch 
and  two  bracelets  like  the  one  I  am  now  wearing.  All  the 
pieces  were  lost  excepting  this  bracelet." 

"  But  how  ? — let  me  inquire  ;  where  were  they  lost  ?  " 

"  Somewhere  near  Paris.  I  had  intrusted  them  to  a 
friend  who  has  never  since  been  heard  of." 

"  But  the  bracelet  you  are  wearing  ? — this  is  so  singular 
— you  will  please  pardon " 

"This  bracelet,"  said  Laid  Jevery,  "  was  more  fortunate. 
Some  of  the  gems  were  loose,  and  I  sent  it  to  my  jeweler 
for  repair,  just  before  we  left  for  Paris.  He  was  to  for- 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       341 

ward   it   to   me   if  he  found  a  safe  messenger;  luckily  he 
kept  it  until  I  returned  to  London." 

"But  this  is  most  strange — most  strange  — " 

O  O 

"  Most  strange  and  most  suspicious,"  said  Matilda  in 
dignantly.  "  I  should  say  it  was  evidence  that  Lord  Neville 
was  murdered,  and  that  his  Eminence  bought  jewelry  for 
Hortense  Mancini  in  some  irregular  way.  If  I  were  Lady 
Jevery,  I  would  insist  on  knowing  from  whom." 

"  Oh,  you  do  make  one  great  mistake,  I  do  assure  you  ! 
Mademoiselle  Mancini  is  impeccable.  You  must  rest  con 
tent  that  the  jewels  came  into  her  possession  in  the  most 
correct  manner." 

Barely  listening  to  these  words,  Matilda  curtsied  and 
abruptly  left  the  room.  She  was  in  the  greatest  distress, 
and  forced  to  conclusions  it  drove  her  distracted  to  enter 
tain.  All  now  seemed  plain  to  her  intelligence.  Rupert 
had  lied  to  her.  He  had  slain  and  robbed  Neville,  and  the 
jewels  had  been  sold  to  Mazarin.  The  Cardinal's  passion 
for  rare  jewels  was  well  known,  and  these  opals  and  rubies 
in  their  settings  of  fretted  gold  work  were  unique  and  pre 
cious  enough,  even  for  the  extravagant  taste  of  Hortense 
Mancini. 

A  sudden  passion  of  pity  for  the  handsome  young  lord 
came  over  her.  "  It  was  too  mean,  too  savagely  cruel  for 
anything  !  "  she  almost  sobbed.  "  Men  who  can  do  such 
things  are  not  fit  to  be  loved  by  women.  They  are  brutes. 
I  will  write  to  Rupert  at  once.  I  must  know  the  truth  of 
this  matter.  If  such  a  crime  has  been  committed,  there  is 
no  king  or  prince  or  priest  on  earth  to  absolve  it,  and  I  will 
wash  my  hands  forever  of  the  Stuarts." 

She  did  not  wait  for  any  second  or  more  prudent  thoughts. 
She  wrote  Rupert  that  hour  a  letter,  every  word  of  which 
was  flame  and  tears.  When  it  was  finished,  she  sent  a  man 


342  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

with  it  on  the  instant  to  catch  the  Dover  mail  packet ;  and 
all  this  was  accomplished  before  she  had  any  opportunity  to 
talk  over  the  affair  with  her  uncle.  When  she  did  so,  he 
regretted  her  precipitancy,  and  refused  to  move  in  the  mat 
ter  at  all.  "  It  would  be  the  height  of  imprudence,"  he 
said.  "  The  young  man  is  dead  and  gone,  and  we  cannot 
bring  him  back,  though  England  went  to  war  with  France 
on  that  quarrel.  The  Protector  is  ill,  worn  out  with  sor 
row  and  anxiety,  and  if  one  of  his  old  attacks  should 
seize  him  at  this  time,  it  would  have  the  mastery.  I  count 
not  his  life  worth  a  year's  purchase.  Last  week  I  talked  a 
few  minutes  with  him,  and  there  is  the  shadow  of  death  on 
his  face.  He  said  to  me,  '  I  am  weary.  Oh,  that  I  had 
wings  like  a  dove,  then  would  I  flee  away  and  be  at  rest !  ' 
And  when  Cromwell  dies,  there  is  no  question  of  what  will 
happen.  The  nation  will  give  Charles  the  Second  a  trial. 
Then  Matilda,  when  Charles  comes  back,  Prince  Rupert 
comes  with  him.  They  have  been  one  in  adversity,  they 
will  be  one  in  the  hour  of  triumph.  We  may  need  the 
friendship  of  Prince  Rupert  to  save  ourselves.  No  one  can 
tell  how  this  reputedly  good-natured  Charles  will  act,  when 
his  hands  are  able  to  serve  his  will.  I  will  not  then  make 
an  enemy  of  so  powerful  a  man  as  Prince  Rupert  is  like  to 
be.  If  he  slew  Neville,  he  must  answer  to  God  for  the 
deed.  As  for  the  jewels,  I  will  not  be  inquisitive  after 
them.  And  I  pray  you  keep  your  influence  over  Prince 
Rupert.  I  am  not  used  to  forecast  evil,  but  I  do  think 
within  one  year  we  shall  see  the  world  turn  round  again. 
It  may  also  be  suggested  that  Neville  himself  returned  to 
Paris  and  sold  the  jewels.  Who  can  prove  different  ?  You 
see  how  the  case  lies." 

It  was  rarely  Sir  Thomas  spoke  with  such  decision,  and 
Matilda  was   much   impressed   by  his  words.     They   made 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       343 

her  hesitate  still  more  about  her  marriage  with  Cymlin. 
She  did  not  believe  Rupert  could  now  induce  her  to  break 
with  Cymlin  ;  and  she  doubted  very  much  whether  Rupert 
would  be  permitted  to  marry  her,  even  though  her  title  to 
de  Wick  was  confirmed.  But  Rupert's  ill-will  would  be 
dangerous ;  and  the  result  of  thought  in  every  direction  was 
the  wisdom  of  delay. 

During  the  first  hours  of  her  discovery,  Matilda  had 
wondered  if  she  ought  to  tell  Jane  what  proof  of  Cluny's 
death  had  come  to  them ;  for  in  her  heart  she  scoffed  at  the 
idea  of  Cluny  returning  to  Paris  to  sell  the  jewels.  But 
Jane  did  not  visit  her  for  some  time,  and  she  was  daily 
expecting  an  answer  from  Prince  Rupert.  This  letter 
might  be  of  great  importance,  one  way  or  another,  and  she 
resolved  to  wait  for  it.  It  came  more  rapidly  than  she  had 
anticipated,  and  its  contents  temporarily  fanned  to  a  feeble 
flame  her  dying  illusions  concerning  her  first  lover.  In 
this  letter  Rupert  "on  his  honour"  reiterated  his  first  state 
ment.  He  declared  that  he  left  Neville  in  health  and 
safety,  having  at  the  last  moment  urged  upon  him  his  own 
swift  Barb,  which  offer  Neville  refused.  He  said  he  should 
seek  mademoiselle's  presence  until  he  saw  her  wearing  the 
jewels,  and  then  make  question  concerning  them  ;  and  if 
not  satisfied,  go  at  once  to  her  Uncle  Mazarin.  He  was 
sure  it  was  now  only  a  few  weeks  ere  the  truth  would  be 
discovered.  These  promises  were  blended  with  his  usual 
protestations  of  undying  devotion,  and  Matilda  was  pleased, 
though  she  was  not  satisfied.  For  to  Rupert's  letter  there 
was  a  postscript,  and  in  this  postscript  one  word,  which 
sent  the  blood  to  her  heart,  cold  with  terror - 

"  P.  S.  It  may  be  the  Bastiln,  and  not  the  grave,  which 
holds  the  Neville  secret." 

The    Bastile !     She    had    heard    enough    in    Paris   of  that 


344 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


stone  hell  to  make  her  tremble  at  the  word.  And  now  it 
kept  upon  her  heart  a  persistent  iteration  that  was  like  blow 
upon  blow.  All  night  she  endured  it,  but  in  the  morning 
she  was  resolved  to  throw  the  intolerable  burden  on  some 
one  more  able  to  bear  it.  But  on  whom  ?  Sir  Thomas 
would  not  have  the  subject  named  in  his  presence.  Cymlin 
did  not  like  Neville,  and  would  probably  "  talk  down  "  all 
her  fears  and  efforts.  It  would  be  cruel  to  tell  Jane, — but 
there  was  Cromwell.  There  was  the  Protector.  It  was 
his  business  to  look  after  Englishmen,  else  what  was  the 
use  of  a  Protector  ?  And  if  any  man  had  power  to  ques 
tion  the  Bastile,  Cromwell  had  it.  Mazarin  was  just  at  this 
time  seeking  his  aid  against  the  Spaniards,  who  were  on 
French  soil,  and  Cromwell  was  about  to  send  his  own 
famous  troop  of  Ironsides  to  help  the  French.  Besides 
which,  Cromwell  loved  Neville.  Taking  all  these  things 
together,  Matilda  easily  satisfied  herself  that  interference 
was  Cromwell's  bounden  duty,  and  that  all  which  could  be 
asked  of  her  was  to  make  Cromwell  aware  of  this  duty. 

She  could  not  tell  how  much  or  how  little  Cromwell 
knew  of  her  meddling  in  a  variety  of  plots  against  his  life 
and  government,  but  she  expected  her  father's  name  would 
secure  her  an  audience,  and  she  had  such  confidence  in  her 
self  as  to  believe  that  an  "  opportunity  "  to  influence  the 
Protector  was  all  she  needed.  Her  first  request,  however, 
was  met  with  a  prompt  refusal.  She  was  not  to  be  daunted. 
If  her  own  name  was  not  sufficient,  she  had  others  more 
potent.  So  she  wrote  on  a  card  these  words :  "  Lady  Ma 
tilda  de  Wick  has  important  information  regarding  Lord 
Cluny  Neville;  and  for  Mistress  Jane  Swaffham's  sake,  she 
asks  an  interview." 

This  message  was  instantly  effective.  While  iVIatilda 
was  telling  herself  that  "  she  would  not  do  the  least  hom- 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       345 

age  to  the  Usurper,"  the  door  opened  hastily,  and  he  en 
tered  her  presence.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  all  her 
resolves  vanished.  His  grave,  sorrowful  face,  his  majestic 
manner,  and  the  sad,  reproachful  tenderness  of  the  gaze 
that  questioned  her  were  omnipotent  against  all  her  preju 
dices.  She  fell  at  his  feet,  and  taking  his  hand  kissed  it, 
whether  in  homage  or  in  entreaty,  she  knew  not. 

"  My  lord,"  she  said,  and  then  she  began  to  sob.  "  My 
lord,  I  crave  of  you  so  many  pardons — so  much  forbear 
ance—-!  will  never  offend  again." 

He  raised  her  with  an  imperious  movement,  and  leading 
her  to  a  chair,  remained  standing  at  her  side.  "  We  will 
forget — the  past  is  to  be  forgot — for  your  dear  father's 
sake.  Quickly  tell  me  what  you  know,  I  am  in  a  great 
hurry." 

Without  one  unnecessary  word  she  related  all,  and  then 
put  into  his  hands  Prince  Rupert's  letter,  with  her  finger 
directing  his  attention  to  the  terrifying  postscript.  And  she 
saw  with  fear  the  rising  passion  in  his  countenance,  and  for 
a  moment  trembled  when  he  looked  into  her  eyes  with  such 
piercing  inquiry  that  she  could  not  resist  nor  misunderstand 
their  question. 

"Sir,"  she  cried,  with  a  childlike  abandon,  "in  this 
matter  I  am  single-hearted  as  I  can  be.  I  wish  only  to  put 
a  great  wrong  right." 

"  You  tell  me  the  truth,  I  believe  you,"  he  answered  ; 
"  and  I  will  take  upon  me  to  s<;e  that  it  is  done.  Say  not  a 
word  to  Jane  Swaffham  until  there  be  a  surety  in  the 
matter." 

Then  she  rose,  and  looking  with  eyes  full  of  tears  into 
his  face,  said,  "  Sir,  I  remember  the  day  you  pulled  down 
the  haxelnuts  for  me  in  de  Wick  park.  My  father  walked 
with  you,  arm  in  arm,  and  I  had  your  hand  until  you 


346  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

lifted  me  at  the  gates  and  kissed  me.  Sir,  I  entreat  you, 
forget  all  that  has  come  and  gone  since  that  hour,  and  dis 
miss  me  now,  as  then," — and  she  lifted  her  lovely  face,  wet 
with  the  tears  of  contrition,  and  Cromwell  took  it  between 
his  broad,  strong  hands,  and  kissed  it,  even  as  he  had 
kissed  it  in  her  childhood. 

"  Go  home,  my  dear,"  he  said  softly.  "  All  that  can  be 
done  I  will  do,  and  without  delay.  You  believe  in  the 
God  of  your  fathers,  and  you  pray  to  Him  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Then  pray  for  Cluny  Neville.  I  may  speak,  but  it  is 
God  that  setteth  the  prisoner  free.  His  blessing  be  on  you. 
I  am  glad  to  have  seen  your  face,  I  am  truly.  A  good-day 
to  you!  " 

Matilda  curtsied  and  went  out.  Her  cheeks  burned, 
her  heart  was  flooded  with  a  thousand  feelings.  She 
marveled  most  at  herself;  all  her  scorn  had  turned  into 
respect,  all  her  hatred  into  something  very  like  affection. 
Yet  mingling  with  these  new-born  emotions  was  an  intense 
contempt  for  herself.  "  A  nice  Royalist  you  are,  Matilda 
de  Wick !  "  she  muttered  angrily.  "  You  went  on  your 
knees  to  the  Regicide !  You  gave  him  your  cheek  to  kiss  ! 
You  shed  tears  !  You  asked  his  pardon  !  You  contempti 
ble  woman,  I  am  ashamed  of  you  !  The  man  is  a  wizard 
— he  has  a  charm  from  the  devil — why  did  I  go  into  his 
presence  ?  I  hope  I  may  be  able  to  keep  the  secret  of  my 
own  fall.  I  vow  it  is  as  deep  as  Eve's !  I  am  morti 
fied  beyond  words, — and  if  Cymlin  knew,  what  volumes 
there  would  be  in  his  eyes  and  his  mouth,  and — his  si 
lence  !" 

And  yet  there  was  in  her  heart  a  strong  belief  that 
this  time  Cromwell's  inquiries  would  be  as  effective  as 
they  were  sure  to  be  prompt.  Indeed  the  first  thing  the 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       347 

Protector  did,  was  to  dictate  the  following  letter  to  Ma- 
'/arin  : 

"To  His  EMINENCE  CARDINAL  MAZARIN, 

"  Sir : — In  a  manner  most  providential  it  has  been 
made  known  to  me  that  Lord  Neville  is  at  this  present 
moment  in  the  Bastile  prison.  I  know  not  why  my  friends 
should  be  treated  as  enemies,  seeing  that  I  have  been  faith 
ful  to  you  in  all  difficulties.  Truly  my  business  is  now  to 
speak  things  that  I  will  have  understood.  The  danger  is 
great,  if  you  will  be  sensible  of  it,  unless  Lord  Neville  be 
put  at  once  in  charge  of  those  by  whom  I  send  this  message. 
For  if  any  harm  come  to  him,  I  will  make  inquisition  for 
his  life — for  every  hair  of  his  head  that  falls  wrongfully  to 
the  ground.  And  in  regard  to  sending  more  troops  to 
Boulogne  against  the  Spaniards,  look  not  for  them,  unless, 
by  the  grace  of  God  and  your  orders,  Lord  Neville  is 
presently,  and  without  hinderance,  in  England.  Then,  I 
will  stand  with  you,  and  I  do  hope  that  neither  the  cruelty, 
nor  malice  of  any  man  will  be  able  to  make  void  our 
agreement  concerning  the  Spaniard  ;  for  as  to  the  young 
man's  return,  it  is  the  first  count  in  it,  and  I  shall — I  must 
— see  that  he  is  restored  to  that  freedom  of  which  he  has 
been  unjustly  deprived.  It  cannot  be  believed  that  your 
Eminency  has  had  anything  to  do  with  this  deed  of  sheer 
wickedness,  yet  I  must  make  mention  of  the  jewels  which 
disappeared  with  Lord  Neville,  and  the  money,  and  the 
papers.  As  for  the  two  last  items  I  make  no  demand,  see 
ing  that  particular  persons  may  have  spent  the  one  and  de 
stroyed  the  other;  but  I  have  certain  knowledge  that  the 
jewels  are  in  the  possession  of  mademoiselle  your  Emi- 
nency's  niece.  I  have  some  reluctance  to  write  further 
about  them,  believing  that  you  will  look  more  particularly 


348  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

than  I  can  direct,  into  this  matter.     By  the  hand   of  my 
personal  friend,  General  Svvaffham,  I  send  this  ;  and  in  all 
requisites  he  will  stand  for 
"  Sir, 

"Your  Eminency's 

"Most  Humble  Servant, 

"OLIVER  P." 

When  this  letter  was  sealed,  he  sent  for  Israel,  and  tell 
ing  him  all  that  he  had  heard,  bade  him  take  twelve  of  their 
own  troop,  go  to  Paris,  and  bring  back  Cluny  with  them. 
Israel  was  very  willing.  He  had  always  believed  Mazarin 
had,  at  least,  guilty  knowledge  of  Cluny's  murder ;  and  all 
he  asked  was,  that  his  daughter  might  be  kept  in  ignorance 
until  hope  became  a  certainty,  either  of  life  or  death. 

Cromwell's  summons  affected  Mazarin  like  thunder  out 
of  a  clear  sky.  He  had  forgotten  Lord  Neville.  It  was 
necessary  to  bring  to  him  the  papers  relating  to  the  mission 
on  which  he  had  come,  and  even  then  he  was  confused, 
or  else  cleverly  simulated  confusion.  But  he  had  to  do 
with  a  man,  in  many  respects,  more  inflexible  than  Crom 
well. 

"  I  will  make  inquiries,"  he  said  to  Israel.  "  In  two  or 
three  days — or  a  week " 

"  I  must  be  on  my  way  back  to  London,  sir,  in  two  or 
three  days." 

"  I  cannot  be  hurried, — I  have  much  other  business." 

"  I  have  only  this  business  in  Paris,  sir;  but  it  is  a  busi 
ness  of  great  haste.  This  very  hour,  if  it  please  your 
Eminence,  I  would  make  inquiries  at  the  Bastile." 

"  It  does  not  please  me.     You  must  wait." 

"  Waiting  is  not  in  my  commission,  sir.  I  am  to  work, 
or  to  return  to  London  without  an  hour's  delay.  Lord 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       349 

Neville  is  particularly  dear  to  his  Highness  ;  and  if  my  in 
quiries  meet  not  with  attention, — on  the  moment, — I  am 
instructed  to  waste  no  time.  We  must  then  conclude  the 
envoy  of  the  Commonwealth  of  England  has  been  robbed 
and  slain,  and  it  will  be  the  duty  of  England  to  take  re 
dress  at  once." 

u  You  talk  beyond  your  commission." 

"  Within  it,  sir." 

"  Retire  to  the  anteroom.  They  will  serve  you  with 
bread  and  wine  while  I  make  some  inquiries." 

"  It  is  beyond  my  commission  to  eat  or  drink  until  I 
have  had  speech  with  Lord  Neville.  I  will  wait  in  this 
presence,  the  authority  of  your  Eminence,"  and  Israel  let 
his  sword  drop  and  leaned  upon  it,  gazing  steadfastly  the 
while  into  the  face  of  the  Cardinal.  The  twelve  troopers 
with  him,  followed  as  one  man,  his  attitude,  and  even 
Mazarin's  carefully  tutored  composure  could  not  long  en 
dure  this  silent  battery  of  determined  hearts  and  fixed  eyes. 
He  gave  the  necessary  order  for  the  release  of  Lord  Cluny 
Neville, — "  if  such  a  prisoner  was  really  in  the  Bastile," — 
and  sending  a  body  of  his  own  Musketeers  with  it,  directed 
Israel  to  accompany  them. 

"These  insolent,  domineering  English!"  he  muttered; 
"  and  this  Cromwell,  by  grace  of  the  devil,  their  Protector  ! 
If  I  get  not  the  better  of  them  yet,  my  name  is  not  Maza- 
rin.  As  for  the  young  man,  I  meant  not  this  long  punish 
ment  ;  I  wanted  only  his  papers.  As  for  the  jewels,  I  was 
not  told  they  came  out  of  his  bag, — I  did  suspect,  but  what 
then  ?  I  am  too  much  given  to  suspicions,  and  the  jewels 
were  rare  and  cheap,  and  Hortcnse  became  them  well.  I 
will  not  give  up  the  jewels  the  man  may  go,  but  the  jew 
els  ?  I  fear  they  must  go,  also,  or  Spain  will  have  her  way. 
Cromwell  wants  an  excuse  to  withdraw,  I  will  not  give  him 


350  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

it.  And  by  Mary !  I  am  sorry  for  the  young  man.  I 
meant  not  such  injury  to  him  ;  I  must  make  some  atonement 
to  the  saints  for  it." 

This  sorrow,  though  brief  and  passing,  was  genuine;  cru 
elty  was  perhaps  the  one  vice  unnatural  to  Mazarin,  and  he 
was  relieved  in  what  he  called  his  conscience,  when  he 
heard  that  Lord  Neville  still  lived,— if  such  bare  breathing 
could  be  called  life.  For  the  Bastile  seemed  to  be  the 
Land  of  Forgetfulness.  The  Governor  had  so  forgotten 
Cluny,  that  his  name  called  up  no  recollection.  He  did 
not  know  whether  he  was  in  the  prison  or  not.  He  did  not 
know  whether  he  was  alive  or  dead.  The  head  gaoler  also 
had  forgotten.  Men  lost  their  identity  within  those  walls. 
The  very  books  of  the  prison  had  forgotten  Cluny.  Their 
keeper  grew  cross,  and  positive  of  Neville's  non-entering, 
as  volume  after  volume  refused  to  give  up  his  name.  But 
Israel  and  his  men,  standing  there  so  determined  and  so  si 
lent,  forced  him  to  go  back  and  back,  until  he  came  to  that 
fateful  day  when,  before  the  dawning,  the  young  man  had 
been  driven  within  those  terrible  gates. 

"On  whose  order?"  asked  Israel,  speaking  with  sharp 
authority. 

"  On  the  order  of  his  Eminence,  Cardinal  Mazarin,"  was 
the  answer. 

"  I  thought  so ; "  then  turning  to  the  head  gaoler  he 
added,  "you  have  the  order  for  release.  We  are  in  haste." 

"  Time  is  not  counted  here.  We  know  not  haste,"  was 
the  answer. 

"Then,"  said  Israel,  flaming  into  passion,  "you  must 
learn  how  to  hasten.  I  give  you  ten  minutes  to  produce 
Lord  Neville.  After  that  time,  I  shall  return  to  his  Emi 
nence  and  report  your  refusal  to  obey  him." 

The  gaoler  had  never  before  been  accosted  in  such  Ian- 


FATE  OF  LORD  CLUNY  NEVILLE       351 

guage.  As  word  by  word  was  translated  to  his  intelligence, 
he  manifested  an  unspeakable  terror.  It  was  impossible  for 
him  to  conceive  the  manner  of  man  and  the  strange  au 
thority  that  dared  so  to  address  the  head  gaoler  of  the  Bas- 
tile.  He  left  the  chamber  at  once,  and  within  the  time 
named  there  were  sounds  heard  which  made  all  hearts  stand 
still, — the  slow  movement  of  feet  hardly  able  to  walk, — the 
dismal  clangor  of  iron,  and  anon  the  mournful  sound  of  a 

o  ' 

human  voice.  But  nothing  could  have  prepared  Cluny's 
comrades  for  the  sight  of  their  old  companion.  His  tall 
form  was  attenuated  to  the  last  point;  his  eyes,  unaccus 
tomed  to  much  light,  would  not  at  once  respond,  they 
looked  as  if  they  had  lost  vision  ;  his  hair  straggled  unkempt 
over  his  shoulders,  and  the  awful  pallor  of  the  prison  on  his 
face  and  neck  and  hands  was  more  ghastly  than  the  pallor 
of  death.  His  clothing  had  decayed ;  it  hung  in  shreds 
about  his  limbs  ;  but  there  was  a  glimmer  of  his  old  self  in 
the  pitiful  effort  he  made,  as  soon  as  conscious  of  human 
presence,  to  lift  up  his  head  and  carry  himself  without  fear. 
An  irrepressible  movement  of  arms,  a  low  wail  of  pity,  met 
him  as  he  entered  the  room,  and  he  looked  before  him, 
anxious,  intent,  but  not  yet  seeing  anything  distinctly. 

"  Cluny  !  Cluny  !  Cluny  !  "  cried  Israel ;  and  then  Cluny 
distinguished  the  buff  and  steel  uniforms,  and  knew  who  it 
was  that  called  him.  A  long,  sharp  cry  of  agony,  wonder, 
joy,  answered  the  call,  and  he  fell  senseless  into  Israel's 
arms. 

They  brought  him  wine,  they  lifted  him  to  the  open 
window,  they  laid  bare  the  skeleton  form  of  his  chest,  they 
called  him  by  name  in  voices  so  full  of  love  and  pity  that 
his  soul  perforce  answered  their  entreaties.  Then  the  Gov 
ernor  offered  him  some  clothing,  but  Israel  put  it  passion 
ately  away.  They  were  worse  than  Babylonish  garments 


352 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


in  his  sight;  he  would  not  touch  them.  He  asked  only  for 
a  public  litter,  and  when  it  was  procured,  they  laid  Cluny 
in  it,  and  his  comrades  bore  him  through  the  streets  of 
Paris  to  their  lodging  on  the  outskirts  ot  the  city. 

When  they  left  the  gates  of  the  prison  there  was  a  large 
gathering  of  men,  and  it  increased  as  they  proceeded, — a 
pitiful  crowd,  whose  very  silence  was  the  highest  eloquence. 
For  they  understood.  Cluny  lay  prone  and  oblivious  to 
their  vision.  They  had  seen  him  come  from  the  Bastile. 
He  was  dead,  or  dying,  and  these  angry,  weeping  soldiers 
were  his  comrades.  They  began  to  mutter,  to  exclaim,  to 
voice  their  sympathy  more  and  more  intelligibly.  Women, 
praying  and  weeping  audibly,  joined  the  procession,  and 
Israel  foresaw  the  possibility  of  trouble.  He  felt  that  in 
some  way  order  must  be  restored,  and  inspired  by  the  wis 
dom  within,  he  raised  his  hands  and  in  a  loud,  ringing 
voice,  began  the  favourite  hymn  of  his  troopers ;  and  to  the 
words  they  had  been  used  to  sing  in  moments  of  triumphal 
help  or  deliverance  they  carried  Cluny,  with  the  solemn  or 
der  of  a  religious  service,  safely  into  their  camp.  For  when 
the  hymn  began,  the  crowd  followed  quietly,  or  dropped 
away,  as  the  stern  men  trod  in  military  step  to  their  majestic 
antiphony  : 

"  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates, 

And  the  King  of  glory  shall  come  in." 
"  Who  is  the  King  of  glory  ? " 
"  The  Lord  strong  and  mighty  ;  the  Lord  mighty  in  battle. 

Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates, 

And  the  King  of  glory  shall  come  in." 
"  Who  is  this  King  of  glory  ?  " 
"  The  Lord  of  hosts  ;  the  Lord  mighty  in  battle, 

He  is  the  King  of  glory  !  " 


CHAPTER  XVI 

OLIVER    THE    CONQUEROR 

"  O  Heart  heroic,  England's  noblest  son  ! 

At  what  a  perfect  height  thy  soaring  spirit  burns 
Star-like  !  and  Roods  us  yet  with  quickning  fire." 

"  Cromwell  is  dead  :   a  low-laid  Heart  of  Oak." 

"  There  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  there  the  weary  are  at 
rest." 

"  CHEER  up,  Jane  !  You  and  Lord  Neville  will  yet  ar 
rive  at  the  height  of  your  wishes.  This  is  my  judgment, 
and  if  it  be  not  true,  you  may  burn  me  in  the  ear  for  a 
rogue." 

"  And  you  will  marry  Cymlin  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  shall,  perhaps  I  shall  not ;  perhaps  'tis  time 
enough  next  year  to  consider  on  it." 

"  It  would  be  a  happy  marriage." 

u  A  happy  marriage  would  be  so  much  of  heaven  that  I 
think  it  was  never  enjoyed  in  this  world.  'Tis  a  weary 
world,  I  swear  I  often  cry  for  myself  in  it." 

"  But  you  will  marry  Cymlin  ?  " 

u  Faith,  I  know  not  how  I  am  to  help  the  catastrophe  ! 
But  in  all  sobriety,  I  think  Cymlin  loves  me,  and  you  do, 
too,  dear  Jane  !  Oh,  I  could  weep  my  eyes  dry  when  I 
think  of  your  dear  lover,  and  all  he  has  so  innocently  suf 
fered.  It  is  intolerable  !  " 

353 


354 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


In  her  way,  Matilda  was  doing  her  best  to  console  and 
encourage  Jane  as  they  talked  over  the  sad  fate  of  her  res 
cued  lover.  Both  had  been  weeping,  and  there  was  a  more 
affectionate  confidence  between  them  than  had  existed  for 
many  years. 

But  Matilda  had  cancelled  every  fault  and  every  unkind- 
ness  by  her  prompt  action  in  the  matter  of  Lord  Neville, 
and  Jane  had  been  loving  and  praising  her  for  it,  until  the 
sweetness  of  their  first  affection  was  between  them.  And 
Matilda  enjoyed  praise;  she  liked  the  appreciation  of  her 
kind  deed,  and  was  not  therefore  disposed  to  make  light  or 
little  of  what  she  had  done,  or  of  its  results. 

"  For  your  sake,  Jane,"  she  said,  "  I  could  not  have  a 
moment's  peace,  after  hearing  where  the  jewels  were.  I 
said  to  myself,  this  is  the  clue  to  Neville's  fate,  and  it  must 
be  followed.  Though  my  uncle  would  not  interfere,  I  was 
resolved  to  bring  the  great  Cardinal  to  catechism  ;  and  as  I 
knew  no  one  in  the  world  would  dare  to  question  him  but 
Cromwell,  I  went  to  Cromwell." 

"  It  was  a  wonderful  thing  for  you  to  do." 

"It  was;  I  must  give  myself  so  much  credit.  Not  that 
I  am  afraid  of  Cromwell,  or  of  any  other  man,  but  it  was  a 
great  humiliation." 

"  Cromwell  would  not  humiliate  you  ;  I  am  sure  of  that." 

"  He  behaved  very  well.  He  knew  I  had  had  a  share  in 
every  plot  against  him  ;  and  he  gave  me  one  look  so  swift, 
so  searching,  and  so  full  of  reproach,  that  it  sticks  like  an 
arrow  in  my  heart  yet.  But  there  were  old  memories  be 
tween  us,  and  anon  he  was  as  gentle  as  my  mother  with 
me.  I  will  never  try  to  injure  him  again,— never  !  " 

"  It  is  impossible  to  tell  you  how  grateful  Cluny  and  I 
are  to  you;  I  think  no  other  woman  in  England  would 
have  been  so  forgetful  of  herself,  and  so  brave  for  others." 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  355 

"  Perhaps  not,  Jane.  But  I  love  you,  and  I  love  justice 
and  mercy,  even  to  an  enemy.  I  can  always  be  brave  with 
a  good  reason.  And,  pray,  how  comes  my  lord  on  towards 
recovery  ?  " 

"Slowly.  Life  was  nearly  gone;  body  and  mind  were 
at  death's  door;  but  he  can  walk  a  little  now,  and  in  two 
or  three  weeks  we  are  going  away, — far  away, — we  are  go 
ing  to  my  brothers  in  the  Massachusetts  Colony." 

"  Jane  Swaffham  !  I  will  not  believe  you  !  And  pray 
what  shall  I  do  ?  You  shall  not  think  of  such  a  thing." 

"  It  is  necessary.  Cluny's  mental  sufferings  have  made 
it  so.  When  he  was  first  imprisoned  he  tried  to  write,  to 
compose  hymns  and  essays,  to  make  speeches,  to  talk 
aloud ;  but  as  time  went  on,  he  could  not  keep  control  of 
himself  and  of  his  awful  circumstances,  and  now  all  the 
misery  of  those  long,  dark,  lonely  years  has  settled  into  one 
idea, — space  without  end.  The  rooms  are  too  small.  He 
walks  to  the  walls  and  trembles.  He  throws  open  the 
doors  and  windows  that  he  may  have  room  to  breathe.  In 
the  night  he  wakes  with  a  cry,  he  feels  as  if  he  were  smother 
ing.  If  he  goes  into  the  garden  he  shrinks  from  the  gates  ; 
and  the  noise  of  the  city,  and  the  sight  of  the  crowds  pass 
ing  fills  him  with  fear  and  anxiety.  He  wants  to  go  where 
there  are  no  limits,  no  men  who  may  hate  and  imprison 
him  ;  and  his  physician  says,  '  Let  him  live  for  weeks,  or 
months,  out  on  the  ocean.'  This  is  what  he  needs,  and  he 
is  eager  to  get  away." 

"You  will  come  back  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  unlikely.  Father  feels  a  change  approach 
ing.  The  Protector's  health  is  failing  rapidly  ;  he  is  dying, 
Matilda,  dying  of  the  injustice  and  ingratitude  he  meets  on 
every  hand.  c  Wounded,'  yes  slain,  '  in  the  house  of  my 
friends,'  is  his  constant  cry." 


356  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"  'Tis  most  strange  that  a  man  of  war  like  Oliver  Crom 
well  should  care  what  his  friends  think  or  say." 

"  Yet  he  does.  When  he  speaks  to  father  about  Harri 
son,  Lambert,  Alured,  Overton  and  others  of  his  old  com 
panions,  he  wrings  his  hands  and  weeps  like  a  woman  j  or 
else  he  protests  against  them  in  such  angry  sorrow  as  dis 
tresses  one  to  see  and  hear  it." 

"  He  ought  to  know  that  he  has  been  raised  above  the 
love  of  men  who  are  less  noble  than  himself,  and  that  if 
beyond  and  above  their  love,  then  they  will  hate  and  abuse 
him.  If  he  dies? " 

"  Father  will  leave  England  as  soon  as  Cromwell  is  in  his 
grave.  Cymlin  will  keep  old  SwafFham  fair,  for  Cymlin 
will  never  leave  England  while  you  are  in  it." 

"  And  you  can  bear  to  talk  of  leaving  England  in  that 
calm  way,  without  tears  and  without  regrets.  Jane,  it  is 
shameful ;  it  is  really  wicked." 

"  I  do  not  leave  England  without  tears  and  regrets,  but 
there  is  Cluny,  and " 

"  Cluny,  of  course.  I  suppose  you  will  be  married  be 
fore  you  leave.  But  I  have  a  mind  not  to  be  your  brides 
maid,  though  I  am  promised  to  that  office  ever  since  I  was 
a  maid  in  ankle  tights." 

"  Dear  Matilda,  do  not  be  angry  at  me  because  I  had  to 
do  what  I  had  to  do.  I  was  married  to  Cluny  three  days 
after  he  came  home.  We  all  thought  he  was  going  to  die, 
and  he  wished  me  to  be  his  wife." 

"  Why  was  I  not  sent  for  ?  I  would  have  come,  Jane. 
It  was  cruel  wrong  in  you  to  pass  me  by." 

"  We  were  married  by  Doctor  Verity  at  Cluny's  bed 
side.  No  one  was  present  but  my  father  and  mother  and 
the  three  servants  to  whom  Cluny  had  become  accustomed. 
He  was  then  frightened  at  every  strange  face." 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  357 

"After  this,   nothing   can   astonish   me.       I   was   not  a 

stranger " 

O 

"  He  would  not  have  recognised  you,  then." 

"  Flow  could  he  lose  himself  so  far  ?      He  ought  to  have 

O 

had  more  courage.  Why  did  he  not  do  something  or 
other  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Matilda,  what  would  you  have  done  in  a  room 
eight  feet  by  ten,  and  in  the  dark  most  of  the  time — your 
bread  and  water  given  without  a  word — your  attendant 
deaf  and  dumb  to  you — no  way  to  tell  the  passage  of  time 
— no  way  of  knowing  how  the  seasons  went,  but  by  the 
more  severe  cold — if  you  had  been,  like  Cluny,  really 
buried  alive,  what  would  you  have  done  ?  " 

"  I  would  have  died." 

"  Cluny  composed  psalms  and  hymns,  and  tried  to  sing ; 
he  did  not  lose  heart  or  hope  quite,  the  gaoler  told  father, 
for  nearly  four  years.  Then  his  health  and  strength  gave 
out,  and  his  heart  failed,  but  he  never  ceased  praying. 
They  heard  him  at  midnight,  but  Cluny  did  not  know 
what  hour  it  was.  And  to  the  last  moment  he  kept  his 
faith  in  God.  He  was  sure  God  would  deliver  him, 
though  He  sent  an  angel  to  open  the  prison  doors.  He  was 
expecting  deliverance  the  day  it  came.  He  had  had  a  mes 
sage  from  beyond,  and  his  mother  had  brought  it.  Now 
did  I  not  do  right  to  marry  him  when,  and  how,  he  wished  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  but  her  face  and  voice  showed  her 
to  be  painfully  affected.  "Jane,  I  cannot  bear  to  lose  you. 
I  shall  have  no  one  to  love  me,  no  one  to  quarrel  with," 
she  added. 

"You  will  have  Cymlin." 

"  Cymlin  is  Cymlin  j  he  is  not  you.  I  will  say  no 
more.  When  a  woman  is  married,  all  is  over.  She  must 
tag  after  her  lord,  even  over  seas  and  into  barbarous  places. 


358  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

If  the  Indians  kill  you,  it  will  be  said  that  you  were  in  the 
way  of  duty  ;  but  I  have  noticed  how  often  people  take  the 
way  they  want  to  take,  and  then  call  it  the  way  of  Duty. 
I  shall  not  marry  Cymlin  until  he  can  show  me  the  way  of 
peace  and  pleasantness." 

Then  Jane  rose  to  go,  and  Matilda  tied  her  bonnet- 
strings,  and  straightened  out  her  ribbons  and  her  gloves, 
doing  these  trifling  services  with  a  long-absent  tenderness 
that  filled  Jane's  heart  with  pleasure.  "  Good-bye,  dear  !  " 
she  said  with  a  kiss ;  "  I  will  come  as  often  as  I  can." 

"  Very  kind  of  you,  Lady  Neville,"  answered  Matilda 
with  a  curtsy  and  a  tearful  mockery  ;  "  very  kind  indeed  ! 
But  will  your  ladyship  consider  —  "  then  she  broke  down 
and  threw  her  arms  round  Jane,  and  called  her  "  a  dear, 
sweet,  little  Baggage  "  and  bade  her  give  Cluny  some  mes 
sages  of  hope  and  congratulation,  and  so  parted  with  her 
in  a  strange  access  of  affection.  But  true  friendship  has 
these  moods  of  the  individual  and  would  not  be  true 
without  them. 

Jane  walked  home  through  the  city,  and  its  busy  turmoil 
struck  her  as  never  before.  What  a  vain  show  it  was  ! — a 
passing  show,  constantly  changing.  And  suddenly  there 
was  the  galloping  of  horsemen,  and  the  crowd  stood  still, 
and  drew  a  little  aside,  while  Cromwell,  at  the  head  of  his 
guards,  rode  at  an  easy  canter  down  the  street.  Every 
man  bared  his  head  as  the  grand,  soldierly  figure  passed  by. 
He  saw  Jane,  and  a  swift  smile  chased  away  for  a  moment 
the  sorrowful  gravity  of  his  face.  But  he  left  behind  him  a 
penetrating  atmosphere  of  coming  calamity.  All  souls 
sensitive  to  spiritual  influences  went  onward  with  a  sigh, 
and  the  clairvoyant  saw — as  George  Fox  did — the  wraith 
of  fast  approaching  affliction.  The  man  was  armed  from 
head  to  feet,  and  his  sword  had  never  failed  him,  but  it  was 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  359 

not  with  flesh  and  blood  he  had  now  to  contend.  The 
awful  shadows  of  the  supernatural  world  darkened  the  day 
light  round  him,  and  people  saw  his  sad  face  and  form  as 
through  a  mist,  dimly  feeling  all  the  chill  foreboding  of 
something  uncertain,  yet  of  certain  fatality. 

His  glorious  life  was  closing  like  a  brilliant  sun  setting 

O  O  O 

in  a  stormy  sky.  He  had  been  recently  compelled  to  tell 
his  last  Parliament  some  bitter  truths,  for  danger  was  press 
ing  on  every  side.  Protestants  in  the  Grisons,  in  Piedmont 
and  Switzerland,  were  a  prey  to  the  Spanish  papists,  and 
their  helper,  Pope  Alexander  the  Seventh,  and  the  Protestant 
Dutch — preferring  profit  to  godliness — were  providing  ships 
to  transport  Charles  Stuart  and  his  army  to  English  soil. 

"  The  Marquis  of  Ormond,  well  disguised,  was  here  on 
Charles  Stuart's  interest,  only  yesterday  morning,"  he  said 
to  them.  "  I  did  send  for  Lord  Broghill,  and  I  said  to 
him,  'There  is  an  old  friend  of  yours  lodging  in  Drury 
Lane  at  the  papist  surgeon's.  It  would  be  well  for  him  if 
he  were  gone.'  And  gone  he  is."  Then  with  withering 
scorn  he  added,  "  All  this  is  your  doing.  You  will  have 
evervthing  too  high  or  too  low.  You  don't  want  a  settle- 

,-  O  C? 

ment.  You  are  tampering  with  the  army.  You  are  play 
ing  the  King  of  Scot's  game,  helping  him  in  his  plans  of 
invasion.  You  have  put  petitions  through  the  city  to  draw 
London  into  rebellion.  You  are  plotting  for  a  Restora 
tion.  I  know  these  things,  I  do  know  them,  and  I  say  you 
have  laid  upon  me  a  burden  too  heavy  for  any  poor  crea 
ture.  For  I  sought  not  this  place.  You  sought  me  for  it. 
You  brought  me  to  it.  I  say  this  before  God,  angels  and 
men  !  But  I  took  my  oath  to  see  all  men  preserved  in 
their  rights,  and  by  the  grace  of  God  I  will — I  must — see 
it  done.  And  let  God  be  judge  between  you  and  me  ! 
Many  cried  "Amen,"  as  they  filed  out  of  the  ancient 


360  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

hails,  chagrined  and  troubled  under  his  stinging  rebuke. 
And  Cromwell  felt  for  the  first  time  the  full  weight  of  the 
refractory  kingdom  whose  government  he  must  bear  alone. 

He  was  right ;  it  was  too  heavy  a  burden  for  any  one 
man,  and  the  burden  was  made  still  more  heavy  by  his 
family  afflictions.  His  beloved  mother  had  left  him,  gone 
the  way  of  all  the  earth,  saying  with  her  last  breath,  "  I 
leave  my  heart  with  thee,  dear  son  !  a  good-night ! '  His 
son-in-law,  Rich,  the  three  months'  bridegroom  of  his 
"  little  Frankie,"  was  but  a  few  weeks  dead,  and  the  Earl 
of  Warwick,  his  firmest  friend  among  the  nobility,  was 
dying.  His  favourite  daughter,  Elizabeth,  was  very  ill, 
and  he  himself  was  feeling  unmistakable  premonitions  of 
his  dissolution.  Eor,  day  by  day,  his  soul  was  freeing 
itself  from  the  ligaments  of  the  body,  rising  into  a  finer 
air,  seeing  right  and  wrong  with  the  eyes  of  immortality. 
But  he  would  do  his  duty  to  the  last  tittle  of  strength, — fall 
battling  for  the  right, — and  as  to  what  should  come  after, 
God  would  care  for  that. 

The  fifteenth  of  May  had  been  set  for  his  assassination. 
On  that  day,  risings  were  to  take  place  in  Yorkshire  and 
Sussex ;  London  was  to  be  set  on  fire,  the  Protector  seized 
and  murdered,  and  Charles  Stuart  land  on  the  southern 
coast.  Cromwell  knew  all  the  secret  plans  of  this  con 
spiracy  of  "716*  Sealed  Knot" ;  knew  every  member  of  it-, 
and  on  the  afternoon  when  Jane  Swaffham  saw  him  pass 
ing  up  London  streets,  so  stern  and  scornful,  he  had  just 
ordered  the  arrest  of  one  hundred  of  them.  From  these  he 
selected  fifteen  for  trial.  They  were  all  Royalists ;  he 
would  not  lay  his  hand  on  his  old  friends,  or  on  any  who 
had  once  served  the  Cause.  His  mercy  and  his  great 
heart  were  never  so  conspicuous  as  at  this  time.  Only  two 
of  the  fifteen  were  condemned  to  death,  Doctor  Hewitt,  an 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  361 

Episcopal  minister,  and  Sir  Henry  Slingsby,  the  uncle  of 
Lord  Fanconbridge,  who  was  the  husband  of  his  own 

O      ' 

daughter,  Alary  ; — Doctor  Hewitt  for  issuing  commissions 
in  Charles  Stuart's  name,  and  Sir  Henry  Slingsby  for  en 
deavouring  to  bribe  the  city  of  Hull  to  open  its  gates  to  the 
Stuart  invaders.  Against  Doctor  Hewitt  his  anger  burned 
with  unusual  severity;  he  would  listen  to  no  intercession  for 
him  ;  for,  he  said, 

"  The  man  has  eat  my  bread,  and  sat  on  my  hearth,  and 
been  a  familiar  friend  of  my  family.  He  has  been  in  all 
our  confidences  ;  he  has  dipped  his  sop  in  our  dish,  and 
cried  '  Hail,  master  '  to  me.  Like  the  wickedest  of  traitors, 
he  betrayed  me,  even  while  he  called  me  friend.  He  shall 
die  the  death  of  a  traitor,  both  to  England  and  to  myself." 

But  though  dark  clouds  from  every  side  were  rolling  up, 
they  were  lit  and  edged  with  the  fiery  glory  of  the  setting 
sun  behind  them.  Cromwell's  troops,  under  Lockhart  in 
France,  were  treading  their  old  victorious  march,  and  the 
flowers  of  June  were  wreathed  for  the  taking  of  Dunkirk, 
where  the  Ironsides  had  stormed  unbreached  forts  and 
annihilated  Spanish  battalions,  to  the  amazement  of 
Turenne,  Conde  and  Don  John. 

Jane  heard  constantly  of  these  events,  but  her  heart  had 
closer  interests.  The  ship  which  was  to  carry  Cluny  and 
herself  to  America  was  lying  at  her  wharf  nearly  ready 
for  sea.  It  was  a  stout  vessel  belonging  to  Sir  Thomas 
Jevery,  commanded  by  a  captain  of  tried  skill  and  great 
piety.  There  were  to  be  no  other  passengers;  Cluny  and 
Jane  alone  were  to  find  in  its  black-ribbed  cabin  their  home 
for  many  weeks,  perhaps  months.  A  recent  experience 
had  proven  the  necessity  for  this  exclusion  of  strange  ele 
ments.  Early  in  June,  Israel  had  taken  Cluny  to  bid  fare 
well  to  his  old  General,  and  the  meeting  had  tried  both 


362  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

men  severely.  A  few  days  previous,  Cromwell  had  laid  in 
the  grave  his  little  grandson,  Oliver,  and  the  child's  image 
still  lived  in  his  troubled  eyes.  He  could  scarcely  speak 
when  he  saw  Cluny.  He  waived  impatiently  all  cere 
mony,  drew  him  to  his  breast  and  kissed  him ;  but  it  was 
quickly  evident  Cluny  could  not  bear  any  conversation 
on  his  past  misery.  His  excitement  became  painful  to 
witness,  and  Cromwell  with  quick,  kind  wisdom,  began  to 
speak  rather  of  his  own  great  sorrow. 

"  You  know,  Israel,"  he  said,  "  how  sweet  a  little  lad 
my  Oliver  was.  I  cannot  yet  believe  that  he  is  dead  ;  I 
cannot.  Only  a  week  ago,  when  he  was  ill  and  restless, 
I  lifted  him  and  carried  him  to  and  fro,  and  his  cheek  was 
against  my  cheek,  and  his  arms  around  my  neck,  and  sud 
denly  I  felt  them  slip  away,  and  I  looked  at  the  child,  and 
so  caught  his  last  smile.  I  thought  that  night  my  heart 
would  break ;  but  the  consolations  of  God  are  not  small, 
and  I  shall  go  to  the  boy,  though  he  will  never  come  back 
to  me.  Never  !  Never !  His  mother  is  now  very  ill ;  you 
would  pity  her,  indeed  you  would.  Cluny,  you  remember 
the  Lady  Elizabeth  Claypole  ?  " 

"  My  General,  I  shall  never  forget  her." 

"I  do  fear  she  is  sick  unto  death.  Her  little  Oliver's 
removal  has  been  the  last  blow  of  the  last  enemy.  You 
may  pity  me,  Cluny  ;  I  need  pity,  I  do  indeed  ;  I  am  a 
man  of  many  afflictions.  But  it  is  the  Lord ;  let  Him  do 
whatever  seemeth  good  in  His  sight."  He  then  went  to  a 
desk  and  wrote  a  few  lines  to  the  officials  of  the  Mas 
sachusetts  Colony  ;  in  them,  commending  Lord  Neville  to 
their  kindness  and  care.  His  hands  trembled — those  large 
strong  hands — trembled  as  he  gave  the  letter  to  Cluny. 
Then  he  kissed  him  once  more,  and  with  a  "  Farewell  "  that 
was  a  blessing,  he  turned  away,  weeping. 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  363 

"  It  is  another  friend  gone,"  he  said  mournfully  to  his 
own  heart ;  "  lover  and  friend  are  put  far  from  me  and  mine 
acquaintance  into  darkness."  But  he  went  straight  to  his 
daughter  Elizabeth,  and  talked  to  her  only  of  God's  great 
love  and  goodness,  and  of  the  dear  boy  who  had  been  taken 
from  them  because  "  he  pleased  God ;  because  he  was  be 
loved  of  God,  so  that  living  among  sinners  he  was  trans 
lated  ;  yea,  speedily  was  he  taken  away,  lest  wickedness 
should  alter  his  understanding  or  deceit  beguile  his  soul ;  and 
being  made  perfect  in  a  short  time,  fulfilled  a  long  time."  ! 

Cluny  was  so  much  troubled  and  affected  by  this  visit 
that  Israel  thought  it  well  to  take  him  to  see  the  ship  which 
was  to  carry  him  to  the  solitudes  of  the  great  waters  and 
the  safety  of  the  New  World.  He  was  impatient  to  be 
gone,  but  there  were  yet  a  number  of  small  interests  to 
be  attended  to  ;  for  they  were  to  carry  with  them  a  great 
deal  of  material  necessary  to  the  building  and  furnishing  of 
their  future  home.  Every  day  revealed  some  new  want 
not  before  thought  of,  so  that  it  was  nearing  the  end  of 
June  when  at  last  all  was  declared  finished  and  ready. 

Then  Jane  went  to  Hampton  Court  to  bid  her  old 
friends  a  last  farewell.  It  was  a  mournful  visit.  She 
fancied  they  did  not  care  as  much  as  she  thought  they 
might  have  done.  In  fact,  the  gloomy  old  palace  was  a 
terrible  House  of  Mourning,  and  the  Cromwells'  own  sor 
rows  consumed  their  loving-kindness.  Frances,  in  her 
widow's  garb,  could  only  weep  and  talk  of  her  dead  bride 
groom.  Lady  Claypole  was  dumb  under  the  loss  of  her 
son  and  her  own  acute  suffering,  and  Mrs.  Cromwell's 
heart  bleeding  for  both  her  unhappy  daughters.  Jane  was 
shocked  at  her  white,  anxious  face;  alas,  there  was  only 
too  much  reason  for  it !  Whatever  others  thought,  the 

1  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  Chap.  4,  vs.  10-13. 


364  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

wife  of  the  great  Protector  knew  that  he  was  dying — dying, 
even  while  he  was  ruling  with  a  puissant  hand  the  destinies 
of  England.  Every  member  of  this  sad  family  was  in  sore 
trouble  ;  they  could  find  no  words  of  mere  courtesy  ;  even 
friendship  was  too  large  a  claim  upon  them. 

Jane  felt  keenly  all  the  anguish  in  this  palace  of  Pain 
and  Sorrow.  She  remained  only  one  night,  and  was  as  will 
ing  to  leave  it  as  the  sad  dwellers  therein  were  willing  to  be 
left.  They  were  not  unkind, but  they  could  bear  no  more; 
their  own  burden  was  too  heavy.  Jane  would  have  re 
gretted  her  visit  altogether,  had  it  not  been  for  the  change 
less  tenderness  of  the  Protector.  His  face  during  these 
quick  gathering  trials  had  become  intensely  human.  It 
was  easy  to  read  in  it  endless  difficulties  and  griefs,  sur 
mounted  by  endless  labours  and  importunate  prayers.  With 
strange,  mystical  eyes  he  walked  continuously  the  long 
rooms  and  corridors,  ever  seeking  the  realisation  of  his 
heart's  constant  cry,  "  Oh,  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find 
Thee  !  "  He  talked  to  Jane  of  Cluny  and  of  their  pros 
pects;  made  her  kneel  at  his  side  during  the  family  service, 
kept  her  hand  in  his,  and  prayed  for  her  and  Cluny  by 
name.  And  at  the  last  moment  he  gave  her  the  blessing 
she  hoped  for — "  God  which  dwelleth  in  heaven  prosper 
your  journey  ;  and  the  angel  of  God  keep  you  company."  ' 

The  strain  had  been  great ;  the  very  atmosphere  of  the 
place  was  too  heavy  with  grief  to  breathe  ;  she  was  glad  to 
feel  the  sunshine  and  the  fresh  wind.  She  had  intended  to 
call  on  Matilda  as  she  passed  through  the  city,  but  she 
could  not  throw  off"  the  lassitude  of  hopeless  foreboding 
that  had  invaded  her  mind.  It  bred  fears  for  Cluny,  and 
she  hastened  home,  resolving  to  see  Matilda  on  the  follow 
ing  day.  But  when  she  reached  Sandy's  House,  Mrs. 

1  Tobit,  Chap.  5,  v.  16. 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  365 

Swaffham  met  her  with  a  letter  in  her  hand — "  Lady 
Jevery  asks  you  to  come  to  Matilda,  who  is  in  great  trou 
ble,"  she  said.  "  Cluny  is  asleep;  if  you  are  not  too  tired, 
you  would  better  go  at  once,  for  if  the  wind  keep  fair,  Cap 
tain  Jonson  thinks  to  lift  anchor  to-morrow  night." 

So  Jane  went  to  her  friend.  With  her,  also,  she  found 
the  grief  Death  brings. 

"  Stephen  is  slain  !  "  were  her  first  words.  She  could 
hardly  utter  them.  But  Jane  knew  how  to  comfort  Matilda; 
she  could  talk  to  her  as  she  could  not  to  the  ladies  of 
Cromwell's  household.  She  could  take  her  in  her  arms 
and  say  all  kinds  of  loving  words,  blending  them  with 
promises  and  hopes  that  had  Divinity  as  their  surety.  And 
she  could  encourage  her  to  talk  away  her  trouble.  "  How 
was  Stephen  slain  ?  "  she  asked,  "  in  a  duel  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  God  !  He  fell,  as  he  himself  could  have 
wished,  fighting  the  enemies  of  his  King.  He  was  with 
Conde  and  the  Dukes  of  York  and  Gloucester  before  Dun 
kirk,  and  was  killed  while  meeting  the  rush  of  those  ter 
rible  Ironsides.  He  died  shouting  c  For  God  and  King  !  ' 
and  Camby — one  of  their  officers  who  comes  from  Ely — 
knew  Stephen,  and  he  carried  him  aside,  and  gave  him 
water,  but  he  died  in  five  minutes.  Camby  wrote  me  that 
he  said  '  Mother  !  '  joyfully,  with  his  last  breath." 

"  Poor  Stephen  !  " 

"  Oh,  indeed  'tis  very  well  to  cry,  '  poor  Stephen,'  when 
he  is  beyond  your  pity.  You  might  have  pitied  him  when 
he  was  alive,  that  would  have  been  something  to  the  pur 
pose.  All  his  short,  unhappy  life  has  been  one  constant 
battle  with  Puritans  and  poverty.  Oh,  how  I  hate  those 
Stuarts  !  I  am  thankful  to  see  you  can  weep  for  him,  Jane. 
I  think  you  ought.  God  knows  he  loved  you  well,  and 
most  thanklessly.  And  he  is  the  last,  the  last  de  Wick. 


366  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

Root  and  branch,  the  de  Wick  tree  has  perished.  I  wish  I 
could  die  also." 

"  And  Cymlin,  Matilda  ?  " 

"  I  shall  marry  Cymlin, — at  the  proper  time." 

"  You  may  have  sons  and  daughters." 

"  I  hope  not.  I  pray  not.  I  have  had  sorrow  enough. 
My  father  and  his  three  sons  are  a  good  ending  for  the 
house.  It  was  built  with  the  sword,  and  it  has  been  de 
stroyed  by  the  sword.  I  want  no  de  Wick  like  the  men 
of  to-day — traders  and  gold  seekers.  And  if  they  were 
warriors,  the  old  cares  and  fears  and  anxieties  would  be  to 
live  over  again.  No,  Jane,  the  line  of  de  Wick  is  finished.1 
Cymlin  and  I  will  be  the  last  Earl  and  Countess  de  Wick. 
We  shall  go  to  Court,  and  bow  to  the  Stuart,  and  be  very 
great  people,  no  doubt." 

"And  Prince  Rupert?" 

"Is  a  dream  from  which  I  have  awakened." 

"  But  he  may  still  be  dreaming." 

u  Rupert  has  many  faults,  but  he  is  a  man  of  honour. 
My  marriage  to  Cymlin  will  be  a  barrier  sacred  to  both  of 
us.  Our  friendship  can  hold  itself  above  endearments. 
You  need  not  fear  for  Cymlin ;  Matilda  de  Wick  will 
honour  her  husband,  whether  she  obeys  him  or  not.  Cym 
lin  is  formed  for  power  and  splendour,  and  he  will  stand 
near  the  throne." 

"  If  there  be  a  throne." 

"  Of  that,  who  now  doubts  ?     Cromwell  is  falling  sick, 

1  Matilda's  desire  was  granted  her.  She  died  childless,  and  the  lands 
of  de  Wick  reverted  to  the  Crown.  As  for  Swaff ham,  Cymlin,  at  his 
death,  left  it  to  the  eldest  son  of  his  brother  Tonbert ;  but  the  young  man 
longed  for  America,  and  soon  sold  it.  During  the  eighteenth  century  it 
changed  hands  often ;  but  in  the  early  years  of  the  nineteenth  century  the 
old  house  was  replaced  by  a  modern  structure,  less  storied  but  of  extensive 
proportions  and  very  handsome  design. 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  367 

and  you  may  feel  '  God  save  the  King'  in  the  air.  If  you 
had  married  Stephen,  he  would  have  been  alive  to  join  in 
the  cry.  I  could  weep  at  your  obstinacy,  Jane." 

"  Let  it  pass,  dear.  I  was  suckled  on  Puritan  milk. 
Stephen  and  I  never  could  have  been  one.  My  fate  was 
to  20  to  the  New  World.  When  I  was  a  little  child  I 

O 

dreamed  of  it,  saw  it  in  visions  before  I  knew  that  it  ex 
isted.  Stephen  has  escaped  this  sorrowful  world  and " 

"  Oh,  then,  I  would  he  were  here !  This  sorrowful 
world  with  Stephen  in  it  was  a  better  world  than  it  is  with 
out  him.  Jane,  Jane,  how  he  loved  you  !  " 

"  And  I  loved  him,  as  a  companion,  friend,  brother,  if  you 
will.  When  you  lay  his  body  in  de  Wick,  cast  a  tear  and 
a  flower  on  his  coffin  for  me.  God  give  him  peace  !  " 

At  length  their  "  farewell  "  came.  Jane  dreaded  it ;  she 
was  sure  Matilda  would  wear  emotion  to  shreds  and  ex 
haustion.  But  it  was  not  so.  She  wept,  but  she  was 
solemnly  silent ;  and  the  last  words  between  them  were  soft 
and  whispered,  and  only  those  sad,  loving  monosyllables 
which  are  more  eloquent  than  the  most  fervid  protestations. 
And  so  they  parted,  forever  in  this  life, — and  if  this  life 
were  all,  Death  would  indeed  be  the  Conqueror.  But  it  is 
not  all ;  even  through  the  death  struggle,  the  Soul  carries 
high  her  cup  of  Love,  unspilled. 

The  next  afternoon  Jane  and  Cluny  rode  through  Lon 
don  streets  for  the  last  time.  They  were  full  of  busy, 
happy  people,  and  mingling  with  them  all  the  bravery  and 
splendid  show  of  the  great  company  of  courtiers  that  were 
in  the  train  of  Mazarin's  two  nephews,  the  Duke  of 
Crequin  and  A4onsieur  Mancini ;  Ambassadors  from  the 
Kino;  of  France  to  congratulate  Cromwell — •"  the  most  invin- 

o  c- 

cible  of  sovereigns,  the  greatest  and  happiest  of  princes — 
on  the  surrender  of  Dunkirk. 


368  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

And  Jane  on  the  previous  day  had  heard  this  "  most  in 
vincible  of  sovereigns,  the  greatest  and  happiest  of  princes," 
declare  that  "  he  was  weak  and  weary  ;  that  all  the  waves 
and  billows  of  a  sea  of  troubles  had  gone  over  him,"  and 
with  tears  and  outstretched  hands  entreat  his  God  to  "give 
him  rest  from  his  sorrow  and  from  his  fear,  and  from  the 
hard  bondage  wherein  he  had  been  called  to  serve." 

On  the  ship  they  found  Jane's  father,  Doctor  Verity  and 
Sir  Thomas  Jevery.  There  were  no  tears  at  this  parting, 
nor  any  signs  of  sorrow  ;  every  one  seemed  resolved  to  re 
gard  it  as  a  happy  and  hopeful  event.  For,  though  not 
spoken  of,  there  was  a  firm  belief  and  promise  of  a  meet 
ing  again  in  the  future  not  very  far  off.  Israel  held  his 
little  daughter  to  his  heart,  and  then  laid  her  hand  in 
Cluny's  without  a  word  ;  the  charge  was  understood.  The 
young  husband  kissed  the  hand,  and  clasped  it  within  his 
own,  and  his  eyes  answered  the  loving  father  in  a  language 
beyond  deception.  When  the  last  few  minutes  came,  and 
the  men  were  trooping  to  the  anchor,  Doctor  Verity  raised 
his  hands,  and  the  three  or  four  in  the  dim,  small  cabin 
knelt  around  him  ;  and  so  their  farewell  was  a  prayer,  and 
their  parting  a  blessing. 

Israel  and  Doctor  Verity  walked  away  together,  and  for 
a  mile  neither  of  them  spoke  a  word.  There  is  a  time  for 
speech  and  a  time  to  refrain  from  speech,  and  both  men 
were  in  the  House  of  Silence  for  strength,  each  finding  it 
in  his  own  individual  way.  As  they  came  near  to  Sandy's, 
however,  Israel  said, 

"  It  is  a  short  farewell,  John.      It  will  be  my  turn  next." 

"  I  shall  go  when  you  go." 

"To  the  Massachusetts  Colony  ?  " 

"  Yes.     I  am  ready  to  go  when  the  time  comes." 

"  It  is  not  far  off." 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  369 

"  A  few  months  at  the  longest." 

"  He  is  very  ill  ?  " 

"The  foundations  of  his  life  are  shaken,  for  he  lives  not 
in  his  power  or  his  fame,  or  even  in  the  work  set  him  to 
do.  No,  no,  Oliver  lives  in  his  feelings.  They  are  at  the 
hottom  of  his  nature  ;  all  else  is  superstructure.  And  they 
have  been  rent  and  torn  and  shaken  till  the  man,  strong  as 
he  is,  trembles  in  every  limb.  And  Fairfax,  as  well  as 
Lambert  and  others,  think  they  can  fill  great  Oliver's 
place  ! — no  man  can." 

"  Eor  that  very  reason,  when  he  departs,  I  will  away 
from  England.  I  have  no  heart  for  another  civil  war.  I 
will  draw  sword  under  no  less  a  general  than  Oliver." 

"  As  I  said,  I  go  with  you.  I  have  some  land,  and  a 
little  home  there  already  ;  and  Mistress  Adair  has  promised 
to  marry  me.  She  is  a  good  woman,  and  not  without  some 
comeliness  of  person." 

"She  is  a  very  handsome  woman,  and  I  think  surely  she 
will  make  you  a  good  wife.  You  have  done  well.  Did 
you  tell  Jane  this  ?  " 

"  Yes,'  I  told  her." 

"  My  heart  is  heavy  for  England." 

"  She  knows  not  the  day  of  her  visitation  any  better  than 
Jerusalem  did." 

"  She  will  bring  back  the  Stuarts  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  Monk,  and  others  with  him,  are  after. 
They  have  been  at  the  ears  of  the  army,  din,  din,  din, 
until  their  lies  against  Oliver  have  been  sucked  in.  They 
have  a  rancorous  jealousy  that  never  sleeps,  and  no  one  can 
please  them  that  is  above  them,  whether  it  be  Prince,  Pro 
tector  or  God.  Envy  has  pursued  Oliver  like  a  bird  of 
prey.  Its  talons,  at  last,  are  in  his  heart." 

"  Good-night,  John." 


37° 


THE  LION'S  WHELP 


"  Good-night,  Israel.      Have  you  told  Martha  ?  " 

"  Not  yet.  She  will  fret  every  day  till  the  change  comes. 
Why  should  we  have  a  hundred  frets,  when  a  dozen  may 
do  ?  " 

But  when  Israel  went  into  Martha's  presence  something 
made  him  change  his  mind.  The  mother  had  been  weep 
ing,  and  began  to  weep  afresh  when  she  saw  her  husband. 
He  anticipated  her  sorrowful  questions,  and  with  an  assump 
tion  of  cheerfulness,  told  her  what  a  good,  brave  man  the 
captain  of  the  ship  was,  and  how  happy  and  hopeful  Jane 
and  Cluny  seemed  to  be.  "  It  did  not  feel  like  a  parting  at 
all,  Martha,"  he  said  ;  "  and  indeed  there  was  no  need  for 
any  such  feeling.  We  are  going  ourselves  very  soon, 
now." 

The  words  were  spoken  and  could  not  be  recalled ;  and 
he  stood,  in  a  moment,  ready  to  face  the  storm  they  might 
raise.  He  had  not  intended  them,  but  what  we  say  and 
what  we  do  beyond  our  intention,  is  often  more  fateful  and 
important  than  all  our  carefully  prepared  words  or  well  laid 
plans.  Martha  looked  at  her  husband  with  speechless 
wonder  and  distress,  and  he  was  more  moved  by  this  atti 
tude  than  by  her  usual  garrulous  anger.  He  sat  down  by 
her  side  and  took  her  hand,  saying, 

"  My  dear  Martha,  I  did  not  think  of  telling  you  this 
just  yet,  and  especially  to-day,  but  the  words  were  at  my 
lips,  and  then  they  were  out,  without  my  leave  or  license. 
Now  there  is  nothing  for  it,  but  letting  you  know,  plump 
and  plain,  that  you  and  I,  in  our  gathering  years,  must  up 
and  out  of  England.  Oliver  Cromwell  is  dying ;  when  he 
is  in  the  grave,  what  ?  Either  Stuart,  or  civil  war.  If 
it  is  the  Stuart,  my  head  will  be  wanted;  and  as  for  fight 
ing  for  Lambert,  or  even  Fairfax  or  Sir  Harry  Vane,  I  will 
not  do  it — verily,  I  will  not !  I  have  fought  under  Crom- 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  371 

well ;  I  will  fight  under  no  less  a  general,  and  in  no  less  a 
quarrel  than  he  led  in.  That  is  settled.  You  said  Martha, 
'  for  better,  or  for  worse.'  ' 

She  did  not  answer,  and  he  dropped  her  hand  and  con 
tinued,  "  I  will  never  force  thee,  Martha,  not  one  step.  If 
thou  lovest  England  better  than  me " 

"  I  don't  !  I  don't,  Israel !  I  love  nothing,  I  love  nobody 
better  than  Israel  Swaffham.  I  was  thinking  of  Swaff- 
ham." 

"  I  shall  sign  the  sale  of  it  to  Cymlin  as  soon  as  Crom 
well  dies.  The  deed  is  already  drawn  out,  and  waiting  for 
our  names.  If  the  Stuart  comes  back — and  I  believe  he  will 
— I  should  lose  SwafFham,  as  well  as  my  life ;  but  Cymlin 
will  marry  Matilda,  and  make  obeisance  to  Charles  Stuart, 
and  the  old  home  will  be  in  the  family  and  keep  its  own 
name.  I  and  thou  can  build  another  SwafFham ;  thou  art 
but  fifty,  and  my  years  are  some  short  of  sixty.  We  are 
in  the  prime  of  life  yet." 

"  I  am  forty-eight, — not  quite  that, — Israel ;  and  SwafF 
ham  was  very  up  and  down,  and  scarce  a  cupboard  in  it.  I 
do  miss  my  boys  ;  and  how  I  can  bear  life  without  Jane,  I 
don't  know.  Wherever  you  go,  Israel,  I  will  go;  your 
God  is  my  God,  and  your  country  shall  be  mine." 

"  I  was  sure  of  that,  Martha.  God  love  you,  dearest ! 
And  any  country  where  your  home  is  built,  and  your  chil 
dren  dwell,  is  a  good  country ;  besides  which,  this  New 
World  is  really  a  land  of  milk  and  honey  and  sunshine. 
Tonbert  and  Will  could  not  be  bought  back  here  with  an 
earldom.  There  is  another  thing,  Martha,  both  of  them 
are  going  to  be  married." 

"  Married  !     I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing." 

"  I  thought  I  wouldn't  tell  thee,  till  needs  be  ;  but  'tis 
so,  sure  enough." 


372  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

"And  to  what  kind  of  women,  Israel  ?  " 

"  Good,  fair  women,  they  tell  me  ;  sisters,  orphan  daugh 
ters  of  the  Rev.  John  Wilmot.  Thou  seest,  then,  Martha, 
there  may  soon  be  three  families  coming  up,  and  not  a 
grandmother  among  them  to  look  after  the  children,  or  give 
advice  to  the  young  mothers.  I  don't  see  what  Tonbert's 
wife,  or  Will's  wife,  or  thy  own  daughter  Jane  can  do  with 
out  thee." 

She  shook  her  head  slightly,  but  looked  pleased  and  im 
portant.  The  wife  and  mother  was  now  completely  satis 
fied.  And  Martha  Swaffham  was  blessed  with  imagination. 
She  could  dream  of  her  new  home,  and  new  ties,  and  give 
herself,  even  in  London  streets,  a  Paradise  in  the  unknown 
New  World.  And,  at  any  rate,  in  the  building  of  the 
American  Swaffham  she  would  take  care  that  there  were 
plenty  of  cupboards.  Indeed,  her  plans  and  purposes  were 
so  many,  and  so  much  to  her  liking,  that  Israel  was  rather 
hampered  by  her  expansive  hopes  and  ideas  ;  and  though  he 
did  not  damp  her  enthusiasm  by  telling  her  "  she  was  reck 
oning  without  her  host,"  he  himself  was  quite  sure  there 
would  be  many  trials  and  difficulties  to  tithe  her  anticipa 
tions. 

"  But  it  is  bad  business  going  into  anticipation,"  he  said 
to  himself.  "  I'll  let  Martha  build  and  arrange  matters  in 
her  mind  as  she  wants  them ;  things  will  be  all  the  likelier 
to  happen  so  ;  I  have  noticed  that  time  and  time  again.  It 
will  be  a  great  water  between  us,  and  the  sins  and  sorrows 
of  six  thousand  years  ;  and  if  there  be  a  Paradise  on  earth, 
it  will  be  where  man  hasn't  had  time  to  turn  it  into  a — 
something  worse." 

So  the  summer  days  went  on,  and  England  had  never 
been  so  serene  and  so  secure  in  her  strength  and  prosperity. 
Throughout  the  land  the  farmer  was  busy  in  his  meadows 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  373 

making  hay,  and  watching  the  green  wheat  blow  yellow  in 
the  warm  winds  and  sunshine.  The  shepherds  were  on  the 
fells  counting  the  ewes  and  their  lambs ;  the  traders  busy  in 
their  shops  ;  the  ports  full  of  entering  and  departing  ves 
sels,  and  the  whole  nation  yet  in  a  mood  of  triumph  over 
the  acquisition  of  Dunkirk.  Cromwell  was  working  fever 
ishly,  and  suffering  acutely.  His  favourite  child,  the  Lady 
Elizabeth  Claypole  was  still  very  ill ;  he  had  premonitions 
and  visions  of  calamity  that  filled  his  heart  with  apprehen 
sion,  and  kept  his  soul  always  on  the  alert,  watching,  watch 
ing  for  its  coming.  It  might  be  that  he  alone  could  meet  it 
and  ward  it  away  from  those  he  loved. 

It  is  certain  also  that  he  knew  the  time  for  his  own  de 
parture  was  at  hand.  He  said  to  Doctor  Verity,  "  I  have 
one  more  fight,  John.  Dunbar  was  a  great  victory ; 
Worcester  was  a  greater  one ;  but  my  next  fight  will  give 
me  the  greatest  victory  of  all — '  the  last  enemy  that  shall  be 
destroyed  is  death.'  Do  you  understand  ? "  And  the 
Doctor  made  a  movement  of  affirmation ;  he  could  not 
speak. 

Wonderful  was  the  labour  the  Protector  now  performed. 
He  directed  and  settled  the  English  affairs  in  France ;  he 
arranged  the  government  of  the  new  English  plantations  in 
Jamaica  and  the  West  Indies;  and  he  paid  particular  atten 
tion  to  the  needs  and  condition  of  the  New  England  Colo 
nies,  being  indeed  their  protector,  and  the  only  English  pro 
tector  they  ever  had.  He  took  time  to  enunciate  to  France, 
more  strongly  than  ever  before,  the  rights  of  all  the  Protes 
tants  in  Europe  ;  and  he  made  all  preparations  for  calling 
another  Parliament  to  consider,  and  settle  more  firmly,  the 
business  of  the  English  Commonwealth.  His  work  was  a 
stupendous  one,  and  through  it  all  he  showed  constantly  the 
feverish  haste  of  a  man  who  has  a  great  task  to  perform  and 


374  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

sees  the  sun  dropping  to  the  western  horizon.  But  his 
heart  bore  the  heaviest  share  of  the  heavy  burden.  It  was 
as  if  Death  knew  that  this  man's  soul  could  only  be  de 
livered  from  the  flesh  by  attacking  the  citadels  of  feeling. 
In  every  domestic  and  social  relation — son,  husband,  father, 
friend — the  tenderness  of  his  nature  made  him  suffer;  and 
when  on  the  twenty-third  of  July  Lady  Claypole's  illness 
showed  fatal  symptoms,  he  dropped  all  business,  and  for 
fourteen  days  and  nights  hardly  left  her  presence.  And  her 
death  on  the  sixth  of  August  was  a  crushing  and  insupport 
able  blow. 

Lady  Heneage,  who  was  one  of  her  attendants  in  these 
last  terrible  days,  was  removed  in  a  fainting  condition, 
when  all  was  over,  and  taken  to  her  old  friend  Martha 
Swaffham,  for  care  and  consolation.  The  two  women  had 
drifted  apart  during  the  past  four  years,  but  there  was  only 
love  between  them,  and  they  reverted  at  once  to  their  old 
affectionate  familiarity.  And  such  sorrow  as  that  affecting 
Lady  Heneage,  is  soon  soothed  by  kind  companionship  and 
sympathetic  conversation.  She  had  much  to  tell  that 
Martha  Swaffham  was  eager  to  listen  to,  though  the  mat 
ter  of  all  was  suffering  and  death. 

"  The  Lord  Protector  was  really  her  nurse,"  she  said. 
"  When  her  mother  fainted,  and  her  husband  and  sisters 
could  not  look  on  her  sufferings,  her  father  held  her  in  his 
arms,  bore  every  pang  with  her  and  prayed,  as  I  hope, 
iMartha,  I  may  never  hear  any  one  pray  again.  It  was  as 
if  he  clung  to  the  very  feet  of  God,  entreating  that  he,  and 
he  alone,  might  bear  the  agony  ;  that  the  cup  of  pain  might 
pass  from  his  child  to  him — and  this  for  fourteen  days, 
Martha.  I  know  not  how  he — how  we — endured  it.  We 
were  all  at  the  last  point,  when  suddenly,  a  wonderful  peace 
filled  the  chamber,  and  the  poor  Lady  Elizabeth  lay  at  ease, 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  375 

smiling  at  her  father  as  he  wiped  the  death  sweat  from  her 
brow  and  whispered  in  her  ear  words  which  none  but  the 
dying  heard.  At  the  last  moment,  she  tried  to  say,  '•Father,' 
but  only  managed  one-half  the  word  ;  the  other  half  she  took 
into  heaven  with  her.  It  is  now  the  sixth  of  August,  is  it 
not,  Martha  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  The  Protector  will  not  live  long,  I  think.  I  heard  him 
tell  her  they  would  not  be  parted  a  space  worth  counting." 

"  He  would  say  that  much  for  her  comfort.  He  meant 
it  not  in  respect  of  his  own  days  ;  no  life  is  a  space  worth 
counting — 'of  few  days  and  full  of  trouble,  Alice.'  How 

O  J 

is  her  Highness,  Elizabeth  Cromwell  ?  " 

"  Very  quiet  and  resigned.  Blow  upon  blow  has  be 
numbed  her.  She  looks  as  if  she  had  seen  something  not 
to  be  spoken  of.  Lady  Mary  Fanconberg  says  the  family 
ought  to  leave  Hampton  Court ;  there  is  a  feeling  about  the 
place  both  unhappy  and  unnatural.  I  felt  it.  Every  one 
felt  it,  even  the  soldiers  on  guard." 

After  the  death  of  his  beloved  daughter  Elizabeth,  the  life 
of  Cromwell  was  like  the  ending  of  one  of  those  terrible 
Norse  Sagas  with  the  additional  element  of  a  great  spiritual 
conflict.  He  was  aware  of  his  own  apparition  at  his  side; 
the  air  was  full  of  omens ;  he  felt  the  menace  of  some 
shadowy  adversary  in  the  dark;  he  saw  visions;  he  dreamed 
beyond  nature ;  he  had,  at  times,  the  wild  spirits  of  a  fey 
man,  and  again  was  almost  beside  himself  with  unspeakable 
grief.  Israel  Swaffharn  was  constantly  with  him.  The 
two  men  were  friends  closer  than  brothers.  They  had 
loved  each  other  when  boys,  and  their  love  had  never  known 
a  shadow. 

"  But  I  am  in  great  trouble  about  him,"  said  Israel  to  his 
wife.  "  It  cannot  last.  Since  Lady  Claypolc's  death  he 


376  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

eats  not,  drinks  not,  sleeps  not ;  his  strong,  masculine  hand 
writing,  the  very  mirror  of  his  courageous  spirit,  has  be 
come  weak  and  trembling.  He  lives  much  alone,  keeps 
from  his  family  as  if  he  feared  they  might  be  in  danger  from 
his  danger.  And  he  thinks  and  thinks,  hour  after  hour ; 
and  'tis  thinking  that  is  killing  him.  I  can  tell  you  one 
thing,  Martha,  a  thinking  soul  is  always  sorrowful  enough, 
but  when  it  is  a  great  soul  like  Oliver's,  and  it  is  wretched 
for  any  cause,  then  every  thought  draws  blood." 

"  For  such  dismal  thought  and  feeling  there  is  the  Holy 
Scriptures." 

"Yes,  yes,  Oliver  knows  the  Comforter,  and  sometimes 
there  is  a  message  for  him.  Last  night  he  made  Harvey 
read  him  the  fourth  of  Philippians,  and  he  said  when  he  had 
listened  to  it,  c  This  Scripture  did  once  save  my  life  when 
my  eldest  son  died,  which  went  as  a  dagger  to  my  heart,  in 
deed  it  did ; '  then,  with  a  great  joy  he  repeated  the  words, 
'I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  which  strengtheneth 
me ; '  adding,  c  He  that  was  Paul's  Christ,  is  my  Christ 
too  ! '  " 

Cromwell  had  hoped  that  his  great  afflictions  would 
bring  his  friends  back  to  his  side;  but  envy,  hatred  and 
greedy  ambition  are  not  to  be  conciliated.  Even  at  this 
time,  Ludlow,  Lambert,  Vane,  Harrison,  Marten, — all  the 
men  whom  he  had  trusted,  and  who  had  trusted  him,  stood 
aloof  from  his  sorrow  ;  and  their  sullen  indifference  wounded 
him  to  the  quick.  He  had  a  burning  fever  both  of  the  body 
and  soul,  but  in  two  weeks  he  gathered  a  little  strength  and 
left  Hampton  Court  for  Whitehall.  His  unfinished  work 
drove  at  him  like  a  taskmaster.  He  must  make  great  haste, 
for  he  knew  that  the  night  was  coming;. 

C1  O 

"  I  am  glad  he  is  back  in  Whitehall,"  said  Martha  to  her 
husband,  when  she  heard  of  the  change.  "  I  remember 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  377 

something  that  Jane  said  about  that  old,  gloomy  Court ;  he 
will  get  better  in  London." 

u  I  know  not,  Martha,"  answered  Israel  sadly  ;  "  Fairfax 
was  with  him  to-day,  and  he  might  as  well  have  drawn 
his  sword  on  his  old  friend, — better  and  kinder  had  he  done 
so." 

"  Fairfax  is  proud  as  Lucifer.      What  did  he  want  ?  " 

"The  Duke  of  Buckingham  has  been  sent  to  the  Tower 
—  where  he  ought  to  have  been  sent  long  ago;  but  he  is 
married  to  the  daughter  of  Fairfax,  and  the  haughty  Lord 
General  went  to  see  Cromwell  about  the  matter.  He  met 
him  in  the  gallery  at  Whitehall  and  asked  that  the  order  for 
Buckingham's  arrest  should  be  retracted.  And  Cromwell 
told  him  that  if  the  offense  were  only  against  his  own  life, 
the  Duke  could  go  free  that  hour,  but  that  he  could  not 
pardon  plotters  against  the  Commonwealth.  It  grieved 
him  to  the  heart  to  say  these  words,  and  Fairfax  saw  how 
ill  and  how  troubled  he  looked.  But  he  had  not  one  word 
of  courtesy  ;  he  turned  abruptly  and  cocked  his  hat,  and 
threw  his  cloak  under  his  arm  in  that  insolent  way  he  was 
ever  used  to  when  in  his  tempers.  And  Oliver  looked  at 
me  like  a  man  that  has  been  struck  in  the  face  by  a  friend. 
Then  he  went  to  his  desk  and  worked  faithfully,  inexor 
ably,  all  day; — but — but " 

"  But  what,  Israel  ?  " 

u  It  is  near — the  end.'' 

Indeed,  this  interview  with  Fairfax  seemed  to  be  the  last 
heart-weight  he  could  carry.  That  night,  the  man  who 
had  been  used  to  shelter  his  dove-like  wife  from  every 
trouble  in  his  strong  heart,  laid  his  head  upon  her  shoulder 
and  said  pitifully,  "  O  Elizabeth,  I  am  the  wretchedest 
creature  !  Speak  some  words  of  hope  and  peace  to  me." 
Then  she  soothed  and  comforted  him  from  the  deep  wells 


378  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

of  her  tenderness,  and  never  once  put  into  words  the  fearful 
thought  which  lay  deep  in  her  heart — "  What  will  become 
of  me  when  he  is  gone  ?  "  But  Oliver  had  this  same  anxious 
boding,  and  he  managed  that  night  to  tell  his  wife  that  if 
God,  in  mercy,  called  him  on  the  sudden,  Israel  SwafFham 
had  his  last  words  and  advices  for  her, — words  that  would 
then  be  from  Oliver  in  heaven  to  Elizabeth  on  earth. 
They  spoke  of  their  old,  free,  happy  life  ;  of  their  sons  and 
daughters  both  here  and  there,  and  mingled  for  the  last 
time  their  tears  and  prayers  together. 

"  Let  us  trust  yet  in  God,  dear  Oliver,"  she  said,  as  they 
rose  from  their  knees  ;  "  is  He  not  sufficient  ?  " 

"  Trust  in  God  !  "  he  cried.  "  Who  else  is  there  in  the 
heaven  above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath  ?  And  as  our  John 

Milton  says  — 

"  '     .      .     .     if  this  truth  fail, 
The  pillared  firmament  is  rottenness, 
And  earth's  base  built  on  stubble.' 

Trust  in  God  !  Indeed  I  do  !  God  has  not  yet  spoken 
His  last  word  to  Elizabeth  and  Oliver  Cromwell."  Then 
he  drew  her  close  to  his  heart,  kissed  her  fondly,  and  said, 
almost  with  sobs,  "  My  dearest,  if  I  go  the  way  of  all  the 
earth  first,  thou  wilt  never  forget  me  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  forget  thee  ?  How  could  I  ?  Not  in 
my  life  days  !  Not  in  my  eternal  days  !  Heart  of  my 
heart !  My  good,  brave,  true  husband,  Elizabeth  will 
never  forget  thee,  never  cease  to  love  thee  and  honour 
thee,  while  the  Everlasting  One  is  thy  God  and  my  God." 

The  next  day  he  went  to  his  desk  and  began  to  write, 
but  speedily  and  urgently  called  for  Israel  SwafFham. 
When  he  answered  the  call,  Oliver  was  in  great  physical 
agony,  but  he  took  some  papers  from  a  drawer  and  said, 
"  When  I  am  no  longer  here,  Israel,  give  these  to  my  wife. 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  379 

Thurloe  has  the  key  to  all  State  questions  ;  he  knows  my 
intents  and  my  judgments  on  them.  And  there  is  one  more 
charge  for  you  :  when  all  is  over,  speak  to  the  army  for  me. 
Tell  the  men  to  remember  me  while  they  live.  Truly,  I 
think  they  will.  Tell  them  I  will  take  love  and  boldness 
to  myself,  and  plead  for  them  when  I  am  nearer  to  God 
than  I  am  now.  It  may  be  we  shall  serve  together  again — 
among  the  hosts  of  the  Most  High.  Say  to  them  my  tears 
hinder  my  last  words,  as  indeed  they  do.  Now  let  me  lean 
on  you,  Israel.  I  am  going  to  my  last  hard  fight." 

When  he  reached  his  room,  he  stood  a  moment  and 
looked  wistfully  round  it.  It  was  but  a  narrow  chamber, 
but  large  enough  for  the  awfully  close,  near  conflict,  that 
he  had  to  fight  in  it, — a  conflict  which  was  to  put  asunder 
flesh  and  spirit,  and  within  its  few  feet,  with  strange,  strong 
pains  deliver  the  Eternal  out  of  Time,  and  set  free  his  Im 
mortal  Self  from  the  carnal  prison-house  of  many  woes  in 
which  he  had  suffered  for  more  than  fifty-nine  years.  For 
ten  terrible  days  and  nights  the  anguish  of  this  struggle  went 
on  unceasingly,  sometimes  the  great  Combatant  being  "  all 
here"  and  full  of  faith  and  courage,  sometimes  far  down 
the  shoal  of  life  and  reason,  and  wandering  uneasily  through 
bygone  days  of  battle  and  distress  and  darkness.  Then 
Israel  held  his  burning  hands,  and  listened,  while  in  a  voice 
very  far  off",  he  ejaculated  such  passages  as  had  then  been 
familiar  to  him  : — "The  shield  of  His  mighty  men  is  made 
red,  the  valiant  men  are  in  scarlet.  The  chariots  shall  rage 
in  the  streets — they  shall  seem  like  torches,  they  shall  run 
like  the  lightnings."  l  And  once  at  the  midnight  when  all 
was  still  he  cried,  "  If  the  Lord  had  suffered  it,  then  I  had 
died  on  the  battle-field  as  His  Man  of  War,  with  tumult, 
with  shouting  and  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet."  : 

1  Nahum  2:4.  y  Amos  2  :  2. 


380  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

He  had  turned  to  face  his  last  enemy  on  the  twenty- 
fourth  of  August,  and  on  the  thirtieth  there  was  such  a 
tempest  as  had  never  before  been  seen  in  England.  Whole 
forests  were  laid  on  the  ground  ;  traffic  was  swept  from  the 
roads  and  the  streets,  and  the  ships  from  the  stormy  seas ; 
and  the  tide  at  Deptford,  to  the  dismay  of  the  superstitious, 
threw  up  the  carcass  of  a  monstrous  whale.  The  cham 
bers  of  Whitehall  were  filled  with  the  roar  of  the  great 
winds.  The  guards  leaned  on  their  arms,  praying  or  talk 
ing  solemnly  together  on  the  prodigy  of  the  storm. 

"  Adichael  and  the  devil  had  a  dispute  about  the  body  of 
Moses,"  said  one  old  grizzled  trooper  to  his  companion. 
"  Are  they  fighting  about  our  Cromwell,  think  ye,  Abel  ?  " 

"  Who  knows  ?  "  was  the  answer.  "  The  Prince  of  the 
Powers  of  the  Air  has  His  battalions  out  this  night,  but 
Michael  and  his  host  will  be  sufficient.  You'll  see,  Jabez, 
when  the  storm  is  over,  our  Cromwell  will  go ;  "  and  he 
drew  his  hand  across  his  eyes  and  added,  "  He'll  have 
company,  Jabez,  a  great  bodyguard  of  ministering  angels  ; 
and  sure  a  soul  needs  them  most  of  all  between  here  and 
there.  Evil  ones  no  doubt,  to  be  watched  and  warded, 
but  the  Guard  sent  is  always  sufficient." 

Israel  sat  near  the  men,  and  heard  something  of  what 
they  said,  but  he  was  too  inert  with  grief  and  weariness  to 
answer  them.  Presently,  however,  Doctor  Verity  joined 
him.  They  said  a  few  words  about  the  storm,  their  words 
being  emphasised  by  the  falling  and  crashing  of  trees  out 
side  the  windows,  and  by  thunder  and  lightning  and  driven 
torrents  of  rain  ;  and  then  Doctor  Verity  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "  He  knows  nothing  of  this — he  is  still  as  death  ;  he 
barely  breathes  ;  he  is  unconscious ;  where  is  be,  Israel  ?  " 

"Not  quite  gone — not  quite  here Is  he  watching 

the  battle  of  elements  in  the  middle  darkness  ?  "  Then  he 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  381 

told  the  Doctor  what  Abel  and  Jabez  had  said,  and  for  some 
minutes  only  the  pealing  thunder  and  the  howling  winds 
made  answer.  But  John  Verity  was  thinking,  and  as  soon 
as  there  was  a  moment's  lull  in  the  uproar,  he  said, 
"  Oliver  is  no  stranger  to  the  Immortals,  Israel.  They 
have  heard  of  his  fame.  In  their  way,  they  have  seen  and 
helped  him  already.  Oliver  has  fought  the  devil  all  his 
life  long.  While  his  body  lies  yonder,  without  sense  or 
motion,  where  is  his  spirit  ?  Is  it  now  having  its  last  fight 
with  its  great  enemy  ?  Israel,  I  was  thinking  of  what 
Isaiah  says,  about  hell  being  moved  to  meet  Lucifer  at 
his  coming." 

"  I  remember." 

"  May  not  heaven  also  be  moved  to  meet  a  good  man  ? 
May  not  the  chief  ones  of  the  earth  arise,  each  from  his 
throne,  to  welcome  a  royal  brother,  and  narrowly  to  con 
sider  him,  and  ask  of  the  attending  angels, '  Is  this  he  who 
moved  nations,  and  set  free  his  fellows,  and  brought  forth 
for  his  Master  one  hundredfold  ?  ' 

"  Yet  how  he  has  been  reviled ;  and  what  is  to  come 
will  be  worse." 

"  He  has  already  forgiven  it.  I  heard  him  praying  ere 
he  'went  somewhere'  that  God  would  'pardon  such  as  de 
sire  to  trample  upon  the  dust  of  a  poor  worm,  for  they  are 
Thy  people  too;'  and  then  he  added,  just  as  a  little  child 
might,  '  and  give  us  a  good-night.'  And  somehow,  Israel,  I 
do  think  he  is  having  a  good-night.  I  do  surely  think  so." 

"  But  oh,  John,  John  Verity,  all  this  great  life  is  to  be  a 
failure.  All  our  travail  and  toil  and  suffering  to  be  a 
failure  !  " 

"  No,  indeed  !  There  is  no  failure.  No,  no,  nothing 
of  the  kind  !  We  have  ushered  in  a  new  era  of  Freedom. 
We  have  made  a  breakwater  against  tyranny.  Kings  will 


382  THE  LION'S  WHELP 

remember  forevermore  that  they  have  a  joint  in  their  necks. 
Oliver  has  done,  to  the  last  tittle,  the  work  he  was  sent  to 
do.  It  is  Oliver  the  Conqueror  !  not  Oliver  the  Failure. 
But  I  could  weep  my  eyes  out  for  the  cruelties  his  tender 
heart  has  had  to  bear.  There  are  some  men  I  could  wish 
a  tenfold  retribution  to,  and  I  think  they  will  get  it.  Bax 
ter  has  whined  and  whined  against  Cromwell,  but  he  will 
have  plenty  of  opportunities  yet  to  wish  Cromwell  back. 
And  there  is  Vane !  he  will  not  find  Charles  Stuart  as  for 
bearing  to  his  fine  mystical  unreasonableness  as  Cromwell 
has  been  ;  he  may  lay  his  head  on  the  block  before  long. 
As  for  Lambert  and  Fairfax  and  the  rest,  the  subtle  Monk 
will  be  too  much  for  them.  Let  them  alone,  their  sins  will 
find  them  out ;  and  we  will  sail  westward  in  good  hope. 
Remember,  Israel,  it  is  not  incumbent  on  us  to  finish  the 
work;  we  can  leave  it  in  God's  hands.  And  though  we  have 
to  leave  it  behind  us  incomplete,  God  will  use  it  some  way 
and  somewhere,  and  the  news  will  find  us,  even  in  heaven, 
and  sweeten  our  happy  labours  there.  I  believe  this,  I  do 
with  all  my  soul." 

On  Thursday  night,  the  second  of  September,  being  the 
ninth  day  of  his  hard  fight,  he  bade  his  wife  and  children  "  a 
good-bye  "  ;  but  into  this  sacred  scene  not  even  the  ten- 
derest  imagination  may  intrude.  Afterward  he  appeared  to 
withdraw  himself  entirely  within  the  shadow  of  the  Al 
mighty,  waiting  the  signal  for  his  release  in  a  peaceful,  even 
a  happy,  mood,  and  saying  in  a  more  and  more  laboured 
voice,  "  Truly  God  is  good — indeed  He  is — He  will  not — 
leave.  My  work  is  done — but  God  will  be — with  His  peo 
ple."  Some  one  offered  him  a  drink  to  ease  his  restless 
ness  and  give  him  sleep,  but  he  refused  it.  "  It  is  not  my 
design  to  drink  or  to  sleep,"  he  said  ;  "  my  design  is  to 
make  what  haste  I  can  to  be  gone."  The  last  extremity 


OLIVER  THE  CONQUEROR  383 

indeed  !  hut  one  full  of  that  longing  desire  of  the  great 
Apostle  "to  depart  and  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better." 

The  next  morning,  the  third  of  September,  his  Fortunate 
Day,  "  the  day  of  Dunbar  Field  and  Worcester's  laureate 
wreath,"  he  became  speechless  as  the  sun  rose,  and  so  he 
lay  quiet  until  between  three  and  four  in  the  afternoon, 
when  he  was  heard  to  give  a  deep  sigh.  The  physician  in 
attendance  said  softly,  "  He  is  gone  /"  And  some  knelt  to 
pray,  and  all  wept,  but  unmindful  of  his  tears,  Israel  Swaff- 
ham  cried  in  a  tone  of  triumph  — 

"  Thou  good  Soldier  of  God,  Farewell !  Thou  hast 
fought  a  good  fight,  thou  hast  kept  the  faith,  and  there  is 
laid  up  for  thee  a  crown  greater  than  England's  crown,  a 
crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  judge, 
shall  ojve  thee." 

O 

But  Doctor  Verity  went  slowly  to  the  beloved  Dead  ;  he 
put  tenderly  back  his  long  gray  hair,  damp  with  the  dew  of 
death,  and  closed  the  eyelids  over  his  darkened  eyes,  and 
kissed  him  on  his  brow,  and  on  his  lips  ;  and  as  he  turned 
sorrowfully  away  forever,  whispered  only  two  words  : — 

"  Vale  Cromwell  !  " 


DATE  DUE 


GAYLORD 


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